Deception
by Eve-Providence
Summary: The love story of one Trojan girl and the cousin of the famed Achilles. When the spoils of war tear her from all that she knew in Troy, will she take refuge with the one man who stole her heart?
1. Prologue: Twinkling Night

**Prologue: Twinkling Night**

The land is dry, black and desolate. The night twinkles with the lights of the faraway stars. My feet feel scorched over the rough sand that protrudes into my sandals. I sit, bent down on my knees, and look out at the city. My hands grip the edge of the roof tightly, the knuckles white with anxiety. Each house burns, the dying wood crumbles to pieces beneath the roofs, sparks flying off the flames. The horse stares at me with no eyes, yet seems to have the Gods color in them. All the Gods, staring down at me, eyes filled with contempt. _Betraye_r they seem to whisper, pointing their glorious fingers down at me, scorning me from the heavens above. I do not protest, for such a thing is not needed. The stone temples and fortresses are torn down to pieces, the men raging into battle with cries and howls, lifting their gleaming swords tipped in blood and guts. They have threatened me, down to death. But I am safe here, atop the stone house that once served as servant's quarters. I curl into a ball, tears drilling down my cheeks uncontrollably as I picture the deaths from days before. His body is dragged in the sand without dignity laid upon him. I watch from above, I see the victor's face, it is unreadable, no joy, no sorrow. Then it is the blood, clotting around his throat, he is choking, choking in pain, tears filling his eyes, making the soldiers around him blurry. He sees the Prince, but can do nothing. He calls for no help, yet I can hear him whisper my name. _Aldreana_…

Now it is the shout of pain piercing through the air, I can hear her scream muffle Achilles' cry. I look down to the garden, where a dead king already lays, still and dead.

"Paris! Don't!" her shrill cry echoes in my ears. Paris shows no sign of remorse, only the will to kill the man huddled close to his own cousin. The arrow is nocked, the bowstring pulled to its full length. His eyes are full of pleasure, glee and retribution. The wood of the arrow sticks out on either end of his ankle, blood pooling around it. I squeeze the hilt of his cousin's sword, swearing on his grave to end the evil works of Paris and his charm. The face, the beauty stares back at me, the hard wood creaks on either side of me as the water pulls me closer to the shores. His face, soft, surprised and fully aware of my presence to an extent, all the memories flash into my head. I look to the man, the legend. Deep in the crevasses of Achilles' eyes, I know he sees me. He does not call for help, but seems to be in peace. The war for him is over, like it was for many yesterday and the day before. Night twinkles down on me, my brown hair swirls around me as it is pulled in the wind. He is safe, at peace, but gone forever. Now I only wish I was…


	2. A New Task

**Chapter 1: A New Task**

The festival had all but begun; I stayed in my dark corner where Hector had ordered me placed. I look for any trouble, anything that looked remotely suspicious. Dressed in a rippled dark blue chiton, another piece of white silk draped over my gown, fastened by two pins of the icon of the great city Tory. My hair is bundled in a curly heap atop my head, the pins straining my head, aching it to nothing that is desirable. Perhaps it is the way my olive oiled skin glistens in the torch light, or they way the cloth of my gown slips off my shoulder, giving me a drunken look, but either way the men still grin savagely at me. They wink, snicker and seem to fill themselves with wine as to gain the pleasure of their lust. Their eyes peck at me, but I do not falter. King Menelaus has risen, his cup aimed at Hector and Paris, in a toast to peace, for now. My green eyes gaze past the strands of sun brunt sandy brown hair that curls around my face, with the sections of blond gifted from Apollo, to the prince: Paris.

Hector drinks to Menelaus, but Paris drinks to Helen. Her beauty shines through the whole hall, dressed in a crimson and gold chiton, her hair bound in gold ribbon and crown. Her blue eyes fall to Paris, whose face catches so many girls with a witty charm. It seems the queen too has fallen for him. She seems to smile at him, but the golden goblet in her hands hides her lips. Paris stares at her with lust filled eyes. The music begins, tearing me away from the image of my prince and Sparta's queen in surprise. Women, dark ebony skinned and dressed in nothing more then silk that turns the men's eyes to their practically bear bodies enter, dancing around the table. A man's hand goes right to the lower body of one of the women, but she smiles with glee, as if she has nothing more to expect. I grimace at the nasty face the man wears, too much wine clouding his eyes. I look away; Hector meets my gaze, eyeing me with concern. I brush his thoughts away, not wanting to bother him with his brother's irrational actions.

He watches me for a moment, trying to test his strength against my tongue in cheek. Finally, he hops from his seat and escorts himself into the merry crowd. I watch Paris pick at his food, all the while his eyes spring up to the seated beauty across from him. I eye him with distaste, wondering why Priam treats him as a humble prince. But he doesn't realize my scorn, I ponder over whether Helen has really won his heart, or whether this is another charm lesson in his rules. Menelaus seats himself next to two gorgeous women, his arms wrapped around them fervently. He smiles and laughs, the women caressing his chest plated in Sparta's armor. Helen rejects him, turning away from him and glancing at other parts of the party, all the while refusing to meet Paris' dark eyes.

A man brushes past me, breathing a heavy stench onto my face. I choke in disgust, creeping back into the shadows to get away from him. He eyes me greedily; I walk past his broad body and into the crowd, my gown dancing around my ankles. Men smile at me, smoothing their untidy hair and leering at me. My stomach knots as I watch Helen stand from her place, no one noticing. Without a look back at her husband, who is overjoyed with himself, she creeps up the stone steps that lead to her quarters. I rest my back on a column that rises to the ceiling, swirling a cup of crimson wine in my hands as to not attract attention to myself. Moments pass and then Paris' cloak swings by, as he turns behind him to check for his brother's watchful eyes. Seeing Hector naught, he lumbers up the steps, I watch from the corner of my vision. My breath caught as he disappears. _Traitor, _ my mind screams, _using the King to bed the woman_. Troy, a black, blank city in my mind. I think of all the curses I can muster, maybe one day they will reach Paris' ears.

"Watch over her. I want to know what they are up too." Hector's voice cuts through me like a dagger. I spin around staring into the eyes of the only prince I follow. No other king have I bowed down to. I avert my eyes, my pride not large enough to stare into the honest, honorable eyes of Hector.

"Yes my lord," I respond, my voice not quaking like those of the pitiful servants that listen to the lords of Troy. Hector's eyes bring my face up, as if he ordered in thoughts that I look at him.

"Aldreana, when we leave, I want you to stay and watch over Helen. Make sure her heart, soul and body lies with her true King and lover, not my brother." He regarded and considered me deeply, as if I was at all capable of what he asked. I nodded. _Another task for me to embark on, _I thought. One of the many tasks Hector and Priam commanded of me as the spy of Troy. Not only would men talk to women of their deepest secrets as if they were nothing more then a lifeless animal, but they also expected them to listen and respond. And that was exactly what I did. _Love your woman…_ that was one of the rules Hector abided by. I however, did not have lovers waiting for me, to pour more of their soul into me to tell to others, but I had connections as the loyal servant and court member of the Prince's cousin, Briseis. Many leaders and kings accounted me as a guest with the royal girl, not a spy for Hector and the King. I saw the way Hector looked at me, not agreeable to what Priam declared of me. _Too young for a spy, much less the only one my father actually respects and expects from_. Those were Hector's words; I was too young, too inexperienced. Yet there a numerous times when I know that inside he jumps for joy knowing I am on his side. He knows that we both are following the king's orders, which is what we are meant to do.

I bow my head in reverence; he eyes the stone staircase once more before turning away. I look to the steep steps, another journey, adventure that I shall embark. I wonder with deep pleasures and worries where this adventure shall lead me…


	3. To Dream of Dreams

**Chapter 2: To Dream of Dreams**

I watched Paris' cloak spin with his actions as he surreptitiously opened the door to Helen's chambers. As if blind to the world, he noticed no one, not even the girl hidden in the shadows, away from the torch light. Cautiously, almost carefully, he glanced over his shoulder, and then slowly opened the wooden door. His dark hair that fell in perfect curls down his neck was the last thing I saw before he disappeared into the chamber. The seconds crossed to minutes, and soon hours. The moon waned in the black sky, the brightest of stars. I felt my eyelids droop as I began to feel drowsy. I pinched my arm to make myself spring back into attention. Night twinkled over the palace, stars blinking into the windows, winking at me. They dragged me into a peaceful sleep, the cup of wine slipping from my hands, the last of its contents spilling over the floor. The dream that streamed into my mind stole me away from Paris and Helen.

_

* * *

My father scolded me once again. "Aim for me, think of nothing else but defeating me!" His sword flashed in the sunlight as he wrapped his hands tighter round his hilt. I gripped the leather bound handle, my hands aching from the tension. I counted to eight, exhaled then counted to eight again as I breathed in. Relaxing my body with this breathing method, I lifted my eyes up to my father. Light brown hair tied back in a leather thong, his eyes were startling, a pale blue that reminded me of ice, striking and freezing my soul. His body glistened with sweat, his broad shoulders and muscles like that of a God. I trembled deep inside my body, his angry eyes scaring me. But my face belied the terror and was replaced with determination. I rushed forward, my sword lifted above my face. My sandals pierced the sand and stones, embedding them into the dry dirt. My sword clashed against Father's, he sneered at me from beyond his outstretched arms. He pushed all of his strength on me, thrusting me back. He wielded his sword with power and might, aiming for my fingers in hopes to fling the weapon from my sweating palms. In the distance were the fields, with a few bystanders who watched for moments at our fight. The rolling hills turned into flat land, and the city of Troy stood in the distance._

_The citadel sat on the highest peak, the temple a few miles away on another identical hill. The houses and buildings lay strewn all around these two fortresses, with the giant wall to keep it all safe. And here my father and I fought, atop the ruins facing the great wall and gates of gold stone, basking its glory in the sun. From a distance, I saw the great statue of the God Apollo, his golden body and arrow mimicking the sun's duty. Father's sword suddenly slashed out at me, but I jumped to the side, spinning fast on my feet and aiming for his side. He greeted me plainly, matching my moves with his own and catching my blade. "Harder, come at me Aldreana, don't hold back!" My father ordered at me, turning my determination into annoyance and anger. I swung my blade back around, unaware of his feet. Throwing his foot out, he caught my calf and whipped me out from under me, tossing me to the ground. Stars sprang to my eyes and my breath was sucked from me. Wincing, I looked up to see his blade's tip pointed at me. "I've won," he merely said, his face grave._

* * *

Helen heard the door open, but dared not turn around. Paris walked to her side, resting his warm hands on her shoulders. She shivered, his touch sending waves of anxiety down her spine. She closed her eyes, wishing the moment away, but opened them to realize Paris was still there.

"You shouldn't be here," she warned. "If Menelaus…" Paris silenced her, massaging her shoulders. Helen bit down hard on her lip, a small moan still escaped. Her skin prickled as Paris drew his hands further down her body to her chest.

"That's what you said to me yesterday and the day before that," he retorted with. Helen immediately stood up. Her eyes glared at him, yet melted at the sight of his face. His dark eyes stared deeply down at her, recognizing her deepest pleasures. His body sparkled in gold armor contrasted with the blue cloth of Troy. Tiny rings of gold held pieces of his curling dark brown hair. Gold arm bands on his wrists made the strength of his muscles stand out more. He backed away as Helen stood, afraid she'd order him to leave. But instead, she wrapped the tips of her fingers to the clasps on her dress. Aimlessly she took them off, and the gown traveled with the clasps to the floor, exposing her slim, lushes figure. Paris took a moment to admire, stare and smile, before sweeping the naked beauty into his arms, his lips twisting themselves around hers.

_

* * *

The girl rushed past me in a flurry, tears streaking her cheeks and ruining her makeup. Confused, I followed close after, down the hall to my father's bedchamber. She gripped the iron handle with white knuckles and swung the door open. I heard her gasp as she quickly scanned the room, looking for any trace of my father. His bed sheets laid untidy, the furniture over turned and disarrayed. Flabbergast she turned back to me, asking for my father. Just as confused as she, I took a peek into the room. Never had I seen my father's room like this, it startled me and surprised me. There was an echo of boot heels from down the hall, both me and the girl spun around. My father walked in, his hands folded behind his back, his face grim. His eyes looked tired and sad, his walk was somnolent. He was dressed in a plain brown tunic and gold armor, a black cape tied around his neck. I considered him, looking for any flaws in the motions of his tired body._

"_My lord, something terrible has happened!" the girl said as she caught her breath. My father's face instantly went to hers, the tired look completely gone. "What?" he demanded. The girl jumped from his yell, but my feet were planted firmly to the ground. The girl, eyes wide, placed a trembling hand on his arm, which he shook off. "It's your son my lord, he was murdered." My heart broke, like glass into a million pieces. I could not breath, couldn't think as tears filled my eyes and dripped off my cheeks. My father, his expression of concern faltered, sadness and sorrow was mixed with another feeling, one I had never seen before in his eyes. He looked at the weeping daughter close to the servant girl. "These words shall never be uttered, understand?" His shout sent the girl running in tears, while I stared at the ground, my life in chaos._

* * *

The shutting of a door woke me suddenly, tearing me from the memory of my fallen brother. I looked around, the dizziness of my sudden awaken fading, the blur in my vision disintegrating. I clumsily stood up, my knees weak from the curled position I had slept in the dark corner. I began walking past Helen's chamber when a breeze of wind suddenly tore open the door. I spun back around, by habit the dagger from my belt also in my hands. Seeing no one, I tucked the dagger back into the belt loop and eyed the door. The room was dark and quiet, but appearances can be deceiving. Tapping the door open, I quickly looked around the empty room, there was nothing but the clump of clothes lying on the stone ground next to the fire place. Among the pieces I recognized a gold silk cloth and a red chiton. _No!_ My mind screamed. They were gone, Helen and Paris. _But to where? _My mind buzzed with questions and scenarios, I thought of everything possible. The last vision was two creeping figures slipping into a Trojan boat. _No, Hector, I have not failed you._ I picked around the room, finding a place in the wardrobe where a cloak could have been placed, and Helen was sure to have one for those sneaky moments in solitude. Panicking, I run from the room, flying down the stairs, thinking of all the cruel things I could inflict on Paris. But then I see Hector's face, solemn and honorable. _I will listen to you, my lord. I will find where she is and will watch her, my lord. Any order you give I will follow._ I think to the past, to the connections between my dreams and the prince of Troy. A rustle from behind shacks my thoughts, I look over my shoulder as a metal hilt hits my head, sending me back to my dreams, a wave of blackness covering my sight. I feel my body tumble to the floor, but from there I have no idea.

_

* * *

A bird flies overhead but I barely notice it, my eyes glued to the dirt road ahead. A small boy rushes past me, pushing to reach his friend. His giggle makes me cringe. How can he be so happy? I think as the sun shines in my face, beads of sweat huddle close across my forehead. I look up by the wall, to the soldier with golden armor, black hair hidden beneath a helmet. That could have been my brother, the sweet boy who cherished every moment with me when we were young, smiling at my mistakes and telling me the right answer. I watched him grow up before my eyes, till he was twelve and I nine, I picked up the sword, swinging it bluntly around his head, his wave of motion not like that of an experienced soldier, but of one who is a young boy still holding onto a future. Father began teaching him from that day forth, I saw less and less of my brother. Then one day my father came home in a rage, screaming that my brother will never learn to alter his mind to sword and fighting. Days later I found him in his room, reading about the myths and legends of the Gods. "I want to become a scholar Aldreana," he said with great excitement and happiness. I blinked in confusion. "But your place is by your sword, in the heat of battle. You read about heroes when you can become one yourself," I advised. But he shacks his blond curls. "You are the hero, not I." He smiles, placing his dagger from father into my hands. "Make him proud," he finishes._

_

* * *

A warm hand suddenly grabs my arm. His fingers twist my skin, turning the tan hue into red welts. Men and women stare, pointing in astonishment as I gaze through liquid at Paris. His brown eyes cut at me like the arrows he practices with, his strong grip sending needles of pain up my arm. "You! You are the daughter of the traitor, the spy, are you not, the one who's son was killed in combat?" I pull away from Paris, his grip still appearing on my arm, I rub away the pain, glaring at the Trojan Prince. "My father is not a traitor and is not a spy. And my brother was murdered. He did not die in combat!" I shout at the Prince, tears pooling my vision. I knuckle my eyes to stop the tears. Paris' head juts back, confused at my words, yet coming with words to retort back with. "Rumors spread fast in the city, perhaps I am wrong. But either way, your father lied about you brother's death." He doesn't even wait for me to bow, just climbs onto his horse and knees its sides, sending it into a speeding gallop down the street. Everyone who witnessed my rude behavior now stares at me with wide eyes, a disgrace to the city and to the Prince. Blinded by angry and tears I run down the street, while everyone jumps out of my way…_

* * *

Hector could not believe the sight that was before him. Helen pulled back her hood, revealing her gorgeous face. Hector's eyes grew wide as Paris wrapped an arm around his prize, his treasure, and his love. Hector looked from the queen to his brother, hissing at him in anger before rushing back up the stairs to the surface of the wooden boat. A spray of salt wind and water smacked his face. The men all looked up with peculiar looks at their prince who last night had enjoyed himself with the new peace. Now the peace was crushed like sand into a thousand particles. He rushed to the front of the ship, hearing Paris follow close behind. Nostrils flaring in fury, he grabbed his brother's tunic, pushing all his strength against Paris' body.

"Do you know what you have done?!" he shouted in anger, wishing to grab Paris' tunic again and tossing him of the ship to his death. "Do you know what Menelaus will do when he finds her missing?" He waited for Paris' response as he stalked back and forth among the ship. Paris watched his brother, as if his eyes that showed no expression of remorse could change Hector's anger into understanding. The waves and the rowing of the men around him and the creaking of the wooden boat were all Hector heard. He glared at the clear blue sea, not wanting to meet his brother's face.

"I love her." That was all Paris whispered in response to Hector's words. Hector snorted in disgust. Then looked back to where the kingdom of Sparta could have been seen hours before. _What happened to Aldreana?_

* * *

My head is aching as I brush the lasting memory away. I put a hand to my head, waiting for my vision to reappear. After a few aching and painful moments pass, I can clearly see the vacant hall where the night before a great feast was laid out. I pull my other hand, only to have it yanked back. Awestruck, I spin my head around too fast, sending pickers of agony in my head. Paris' galloping horse still echoes in my ears. I turn to my bound arm, and iron shackle twisting its way to a ring set into the columns, perfect for fitting chains and prisoners to. I lift a foot, which is pulled down by the weight of another shackle. I'm breathing hard, wondering what is to become of me now that I'm captured prisoner when all of a sudden a loud, angry shout rings down the hall from upstairs. I hear a clash as an item is thrown to the stone wall and the shuffling of feet as a servant girl sprints down the steps. She glances at me with terror filled eyes, and then continues her way past the table and out of the room. I follow her as far as my head can go before another shout sends its volume down to me. I look back to the hall, the blank stone wall and the steep steps. I catch my breath. "WHERE IS SHE?!"


	4. Agamemnon's Court

**Chapter 3: Agamemnon's Court**

The King Menelaus stared down at me from his throne of gold. His eyes were dark, full of menace. My wrists burned from the rubbing of the shackles, now twisting my arms behind my back. A guard stood beside me, the tip of his sword grazing the skin of my back. I stared at the ground, not willing to look the king in the eye. My hair was torn from the ribbons and thread holding it up, flowing down in curls around my moist cheeks. This was the first time in five years that I cried. I cried for my life, for Troy and for the betrayal of Hector that I knew I would soon be led into. Unless I could deceive into thinking I was a spy, I was as good as dead kneeling in front of the great king. His beard half hid the scowl on his face, the blond hue of his hair setting off the tan glow of his skin. He wore a crown of gold, and robes of regal, the color crimson that Helen had worn yesterday. He had eyes that could be loving, caring but now they were like flaming torches that easily scorched through flesh as they glared at me. The servant girl sat in a corner sobbing, a red welt forming on her cheek as she tried to escape the guard's grasp from before, only to fail and scream. She pointed her lame finger at me, wriggling from the man's firm hold.

"She knows of the disappeared Queen. She spies for the Prince Hector," she wailed, her finger the blade of truth, though she only guessed of my life to get herself out of a few floggings. Me, I preferred them over the punishments of the past, and would not whimper for freedom. Menelaus held his face high, though the hurt feelings of his lost prize were pasted all over his face. He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, trying his best to keep his temper down. I faked a terrified look, which only led him to the feeling of more guilt if he sent me into tears.

"She says you are spy to Prince Hector." He spoke with a voice of common kings, the ones that led men into babbled sentences and women gapping. I lifted my head, shaking the blond curls out of my face. The girl eyed me strangely, as if she wanted to discover the secrets I kept hidden in my heart. She pictured me giving out over the action of me being a found spy, but I refused to let her win, I refused to accede to her and the king.

"Appearances can be deceiving my lord." The words that I lived by spread through my lips and to his ears. Eyes of stone turned to beady anger, but he allowed me to continue. "True I have lived my whole life on Troy's soil, but my heart and loyalty does not rest on the King, Priam and his sons." My lies tore my body to pieces, I begged silently for Hector's forgiveness, caring not what Paris or Priam would think. _Knowing them they would congratulate me for getting myself out of this mess with my true honor still on their son and brother, _I thought bluntly.

Menelaus heaved a sigh, turning his face away from me and to the girl. With a wave of his hand he dismissed her. She bowed weakly and waddled out sulking at her crushing defeat of not seeing me punished for her "lies". Likewise he did the same with the guards, including the one the beheld death scrapping my back. The guards of the great king protested but he heard none of it and let down his peremptory hand only when the last man retreated out of the room. His rugged face swiveled back to me, the years of war and service to Sparta showing on his face. He was tired, weary and need of the peace Paris had disembodied into scattered pieces. He again rested his face in his folded, intertwined fingers.

"You expect me to believe that you are not following Hector's or Priam's orders? How can I?" he asked with amusement, as if I could give no answer but the truth. His stout body finally seemed to relax, the tension eased as he thought the answers to all my hidden seducing ways was about to open to him at this very instant. Instead I bore the tried muscles in my body, carrying the chains of iron as I crawled closer to the throne that sat in the great hall with its pillars and gleaming torches and light, aiding the majestic tapestries on the wall. One wall was complete torn down, the pillars supporting the ceiling, the wall replaced with a balcony that led to the cool air sprouting from the sea and overlooking the city.

"No my lord, I expect you to believe that the one thing I want most is to see Troy fall because of Paris' crude actions. The boy is unfit to be considered royal and I have spent some time in the city learning of his ways, mastering his movements through the priestess Briseis. I have been welcomed into the court as one of hers and through doing so I have learned of the love between Helen and Paris. With all do respect my lord; it would be a highest honor for you to allow me to be your spy as you travel to Troy. I have a relationship with Paris that no man could achieve walking into the city's gates. I could get the information you need and will aid you as much as possible." The words did not seem to convince Menelaus, who stared at the floor in wonder and thought. I waited for a reply, staring out at the city, great and powerful. Another remark snapped into my head. "My lord," I began. "I believe that the right thing to do is to claim back what was stolen from you. No thief should walk around openly with his treasures." That seemed to hit the king in his heart perfectly. He lifted his face high, grunting as he stood up and bringing me to my feet.

"What is your name girl?" he asked. I plainly said my name, which he whispered again, savoring it. "Aldreana," he began. "I shall order new clothes to be brought to show you are in my service. Now, come with me, there is much that must be done." He noticed my shackled arms and reddened wrists. "Those will be removed as well," he mused. Gathering himself he opened the doors wide, revealing the guards who stayed behind for orders. At the sight of their lord they rose to their feet, straightening their spears and armor. Menelaus looked at each one with eyes of authority.

"Ready your men and gather the ships. We sail for Agamemnon's court." He stood silent for some time, as if he would question me again. But when the men bowed and started for the halls and stairs, he nodded to himself, acknowledging that I had caught him. Inside I smiled with pleasure at my victory, but my face showed mercy for the king, as if this was the only way to get back his lost queen, my words holding the false truth. The voice of Paris rang in my ears. _…he is a betrayer…_

_

* * *

_The doors to the Agamemnon's palace opened wide, revealing a hall where the great king waited. Menelaus, looking over his shoulder, checking on me, but I was awed at the marble pillars, the smell of freshly cut flowers, the men and women who rested on cushions, all heads turning to greet the new visitors. The walls sparkled. The blurred reflection of the horde of royals could be seen, smeared on the walls. And there, in the middle of the hall, stood the huge throne of the great king who had conquered so many parts of Greece, his eyes now set on Troy. His bulk of body was bound by the colorful armor. His graying hair plaited and tied in gold thread. His eyes were always full of humor and mild contempt. He smiled a genuine smile as Menelaus walked forward, leaving me and the group of many guards to follow close behind. I felt around my leather belt for my dagger, placing my hand on the hilt. Instantly memories of my brother washed into my mind, as if the weapon could transport me from all these troubles to those joyous moments. I felt the wool and cotton tickle at my body again. I was dressed in the common clothes of a servant of Sparta, plain red dyed into the fabric. The leather belt and the dagger were the only things I pleaded to keep, Menelaus reluctantly handed them back. My clothes from Troy, the deep blue of an ocean bearing a night sky, were thrown into the fire, the silk chiton and wrap catching fire immediately, dancing flames on my cheeks and face.

Agamemnon stood up with open arms, catching his brother in his warm embrace. I saw his eyes glance at me. I averted them and waited for his glare to pass. He laughed his brother's name in welcome, pulling himself away and looking deep into his brother's face, remembering the sight. He smiled with joy at the sight of Menelaus. Menelaus tweaked a smile, and then his face turned grim, wiping the smile clean from Agamemnon's face. He knew the troubles his brother would speak of. He patted Menelaus' shoulder. Menelaus sighed as he shared the devastating news.

"They have taken Helen from me, right from under my nose. Hector and Paris." He spat the names out, wishing to wring their necks at that very second. Agamemnon looked over his brother to me, I held my face high with dignity, and he smiled at my behavior, amused by it. He turned back to Menelaus. "I want her back." Menelaus finished curtly. Agamemnon grinned, steering his brother back around, his face exact opposite of Menelaus'.

"Of course you want the woman back. But tell me brother, what is in it for me?" he questioned. I rolled my eyes in disgust by the power driven king. Menelaus peered with sad eyes at Agamemnon, as if all the pleasures of the world he would give in return for Helen. "Fight by my side brother and I will give you Troy, the only city left that does not bear your name as the leader. Will you fight by my side?" He raised his strong arm, pulsing with muscle. Agamemnon lowered his eyes to his brother's hand. Then he clasped it firmly, sealing the truce and the pact between them. He threw his body into Menelaus in a lasting embrace, smiling with glee as if Troy was already his.

"I will fight for you brother." He tore himself away, and then laid his sight on me, once again. His eyes filled with lust like the drunken men from the night before. "What of the girl, I have never seen her in your court before Menelaus. Replacing Helen already I see." He grinned at his own sarcasm, but no one did the same. Menelaus scowled, spinning his head around to find me mingled in his guards. He had forgotten about me already.

"She is my spy. She knows her way around Troy's defense and can plot Paris around her finger." I frowned as he replaced my words with disrespect, as if I was nothing more than a whore for Paris and now for him and Agamemnon to gaze and throttle upon. Agamemnon's eyes traveled up and down me, coming lastly to my face that was expressionless. He curved back to his brother as if the king had done something unworthy of remembering.

"She is useless. Let her be on her way. She is doing no more harm than sneaking around with no trouble into men's beds. Let her service be done with as of now, she is no more than a woman to you. She spoke of spying when really she wanted to grab your heart like a sly vixen and twist and turn it to her will and being. Better yet, you could kill her, or throw her into her deepest nightmares." Agamemnon's diatribe made me surprised. I was to be stripped from this duty do quickly, so easily, without punishment. Menelaus hesitated, as if he was bound to my convincing words already. He began to raise his mighty gloved hand when Agamemnon's priest suddenly stormed into the hall. He bowed to the kings, and then began his message.

"My lord as I told you last night, this is to be the greatest war the world has ever seen. As I can see, the rumors about Queen Helen are true as your brother stands before us now." He bowed his head in reverence to the King then continued. "My lord, we need the greatest warrior." Agamemnon's face lost all of the humor and the contempt filled his every pore. He looked grimly at his priest and finally nodded. The priest allowed this nod as an agreement. "Then we have an accord. I will send word for Odysseus to find Achilles and his men immediately. Once they arrive, you can have your golden city, waiting for you with trembling feet as you wash up to their shores. My lord, we could have more than nine hundred ships of men pouring out their service to you." Agamemnon smiled cheerfully. I stood, mouth agape at the sound of the legendary name. Unable to hide or contain my excitement I rushed forward to Menelaus' feet, bowing at his sandals. He dared not shake me off, but refused to look down at me with nothing more than mercy and distaste.

"My lords, please, allow me to go with Achilles," I requested. Both looked awestruck at my words, eyes bulging, one in hilarity and the other in shock. Menelaus shook his immense head, but a hand slapped on his chest stopped him. Agamemnon smiled as a conversation passed only between the brothers from memory. Menelaus bowed and walked away, leaving me with the wrath of his brother.

"If you want to find Achilles by all means do, how you accomplish that without my help or my brother's is something for you to achieve. And believe me, Achilles is not one to be pleased by unwelcome visitors." He crossed his arms over his chest, thinking I would not want to go now. But I nodded in understanding, also acknowledging my leave and spun on my heel, rushing form the room in search of the man they called Odysseus.

* * *

My mind whirled with amazement. I could actually come close to the legendary man, the mighty Achilles. I marched out of the palace, down the road to the docks, where boats bobbed up and down in the clear blue water, reflecting the sun's hottest of rays. Fisherman came in with loads of fish in the nets, all depicting different profits for the men. I looked at each enormous ship, taking picks and guesses of which ones could be Odysseus's. The sand was hot, the glass particles heated form the sun, slipping into my shoes and branding my feet with red hot spots. I continued down the hill to the docks, a brisk wind tugging at my hair. I glanced around at the busy atmosphere. My eyes glued to a black cloak, hanging from a rope bearing a ship. It pulled and beckoned to me till I couldn't stand it. Without looking back I ran and caught the cloak in my outstretched hands. I bundled it up in front of me, waiting for the yells to come peeling towards me. But all was silent except for the calls not directed at my stolen item. My words about stolen treasures to the King Menelaus rushed to me like I wave in the sea. I smiled at myself. Was I that predictable, that my words to one person were the exact opposite for me? Walking on, with no remorse to make me return it, I felt a sprinkle of joy for the luck I was granted. _With spying comes easy pick pocketing,_ I thought. I noticed a young man with dark curls walking towards me, carrying a spear on his shoulder.

"Excuse me!" I called, running to him. He stopped and dropped the spear's butt to lean on. He smiled sincerely at me, blushing as he tried straightening his hair. I cared not, his ordinary face offering little attraction to me. His face was pudgy and like a child's though he looked my age. "Can you tell me where Odysseus's ship is? I have a message for him from the King." Another lie didn't hurt and the boy knew nothing of my false words. He shaded his face with his hands as he turned. The he pointed to a ship with a white mast unfurled in the wind. I nodded my thanks and rushed on.

Men began untying the ropes and were about to set off when I claimed the dock my own, pushing past people to get to the ship. I sought a man with short red hair and beard, who pointed to men and barked orders. He was very calm and laidback from first glance. I took him as the man I needed.

"My lord!" I shouted. Recognizing the phrase, the man spun around, placing honorable and friendly eyes on me. He ordered the men to stop, leaping off the boat and coming to me. I stopped, my chest heaving as I caught my breath. He placed his hands at his sides, impatient to be off.

"Another message from King Agamemnon no doubt. Does he want me to bring Achilles back in chains so as not to have a dispute let out between the two?" I grinned, finding his opinion of the accounted distaste between the two men and his sarcastic remarks more appeasing to me then the King's. I shook my head, brushing back damp blond curls and thick hair that plastered it self to my bare shoulders.

"No my lord, I was freed from King Menelaus' service but I was not freed from this war. I wish to join you, to meet Achilles. Please my lord, I would be no bother," I begged, bowing down on my tired knees. Odysseus tapped my arm, allowing me to rise. He considered me greatly, as if I would be a burden when I had already lasted the voyage to Agamemnon's kingdom on my own. He rubbed his chin with his hand as he considered more. Finally he assented and nodded his head.

"Very well, you can come along, but at your own risk." I tipped him my thanks, his eyes fluttered to my dagger. "If I can guess, your dislike for Agamemnon might be the only thing you and Achilles have in common. But as for his cousin…" His sentence trailed off, leaving me to ponder over the discontinued words as I followed him onto his ship. I watched the King of King's city, the kingdom, fade into small dots and squares as the men rowed their way to the Achilles, bearing me along with them, my heart a flutter, my hand still placed on the dagger, tracing my fingers over the engraved designs on the leather bound hilt. _But as for his cousin…_Somehow, I suddenly felt more connected to this mysterious man then to any other I had met my whole life, even my brother and my leader: Hector.


	5. Voyage to Troy

**Chapter 4: Voyage to Troy**

The gates opened wide, chariots bearing the King's sons entered. Crowds of people gathered, cheering and showering flowers down to their Princes. Paris, with his gentle brown eyes and soft face, held onto the reins with worried hands. The people gapped at the woman next to him, pointed and then they applauded. Paris was not worried anymore. He smiled with happiness, stealing a glance at Helen, who was awestruck by her welcome. Hector rode on his horse with stern eyes, preparing for the words that his father would lay on him as the man in order during their leave. Perhaps Paris would explain for him, but Hector highly doubted it. He was the one whose scorn was placed upon. He was the one who had to keep his little brother in line. Everything he had worked up for to gain his father's pleasure was going to be destroyed in merely a few minutes. Yet he waved to the people, his people and smiled at the faces young and old, all happy to have their princes safe and sound. He could see the palace in the distance, growing bigger and bigger as they approached it. Dots of blue and bronze armor glittered the palace floor. It was Priam and his courtiers. _Aldreana…_ Hector thought. _What will happen when I come empty handed without my spy and the person that she was watching is now here with me? _He tried to brush the thoughts away, yet they kept coming back. What had happened to her? She wouldn't just let Helen leave, something had to have happened. Then he wondered if the next time he saw Aldreana, her heart would not be with Troy anymore…

Priam stood, watching his sons come closer and closer to home, they were safe. His clear water eyes filled with tears, which he quickly disposed of. The wind caught his feathery white hair and hid his face of joy and gladness. He sat back down on his throne, coming into conversation with his men when a flash of blond hair caught his eye. Immediately he sat back up and walked to the end of his balcony. There, standing with Paris on the golden chariot bearing them home was the Queen Helen, her face bearing all the beauty of a goddess. Priam was struck down with astonishment at why she was here, riding with his son. He looked at Hector, hoping an explanation was painted on his heir's face, but there was nothing. There was another soul he looked for, only to find her gone as well. Aldreana, the girl he and Hector had_…No matter, I will find out the meaning of these discomfiture things, _Priam thought lightly. He watched with belying eyes as Hector, Paris and Helen dropped from their chariots and mounts and walked up the steps to him. Hector raised his eyes, trying hard to hide his thoughts but his father ignored it. Priam caught his son in a lovingly embrace, kissing his forehead in custom. The glance shared between father and son was one that passed with the need for discussion later. Then Paris, awaiting his father, stepped in his arms like he was a child again. He smiled with joy, still jumping inside that he had coaxed Helen into coming home with him. Priam kissed his son likewise Hector and then turned lastly to Helen. Paris' face beamed as Priam eyes went up and down the girl, tracing back all the memories that Paris had of when he first encountered this beautiful creature. Helen, her face full of warning and worry, faked a smile to the King. Priam wrapped his arms gracefully around the young woman.

"Helen," he said with a quiet voice. "Welcome to Troy." Paris still puffed out his chest in pride, his prize welcomed to Troy with warm and open arms, just how he imagined. Priam took one more look at the girl who stole his son's heart. "I've heard many great deals of your beauty and strength, Queen of Sparta." The name cut into both Helen and Paris like a sword from Menelaus himself, piercing both of their hearts as they realized the truth they had tried to forget on their way to the great city. "For once, the rumors were true," Priam finished. Still with an arm enveloped around Helen he steered her towards his courtiers, introducing her as if by no means that she and his son had caused the greatest conflict between nations ever. Paris, with a wide smile that boasted to everyone, turned to Hector to declare that he won, only to find his brother missing, rushing to a dark haired goddess of a woman, who was carrying a small infant in her arms. He chuckled at the sight of his son, who giggled and began playing with the strings dangling form his armor.

"Paris!" A call came from the hall, making the prince spin around. A young girl with auburn hair ran to him, throwing herself into his arms.

"Briseis!" Paris said. He scooped his cousin into his arms. The girl was wide eyed with excitement, wearing the clothes of royalty and a priestess. When he set her back down, she began looking around the balcony, through all the members of her uncle's court. Paris waited, looking confused and puzzled.

"Where is Aldreana?" she asked, but Paris was as dumbfounded as she. He glanced at Hector, who was mentioning something to their father. Priam's eyes fell on Paris, his face grim. They both walked over to the young people. Briseis again repeated her question. Hector heaved a sigh, his wife nested the babe in her chest as she walked over, wondering why he was so troubled already. Not able to glance at anyone but his cousin, Hector told Briseis what happened to her friend and courtier.

"She stays in Sparta, where I told her to watch over Helen." Paris' eyes bulged in anger.

"She didn't need to be watched," he hissed in a whisper. But Hector threw his anger upon his brother.

"Apparently she did if she is now here in Troy, you snuck her from underneath Menelaus' nose, and Aldreana will be the first to pay the price. I know not of the arguments raised between you two about her past but you might as well have cut her head off yourself. She is as good as dead out there and here Helen sits, safe and sound." Helen rose at the sound of her name, Hector's wife, Andromache, gasped, a hand covering her lips. Helen forestalled her eyes, down casting them from the world around her. Paris clenched his jaw. Hector had a vein in his chin pulsing as he tried to control his anger. Briseis nodded, and then walked back into the palace the way she came. Priam rested a hand on his elder son's shoulder.

"There is much you need to talk about," he mentioned to Andromache and Hector and then to Paris said, "Come, I have words to discuss with you and Helen."

* * *

I tied the cloak around my neck, it was tailored for a man, traveling just past my feet and dragging behind me. Only a dim lantern that rocked back and forth with the waves that knocked into the ship's sides lit the dark spacious room below deck. For awhile I felt myself bobbing up and down like a cork in the water, I heard the splash of the anchor being thrown into the sea. I was so filled with excitement that when the man opened that latch and lifted up the door to the deck I jumped in surprise. Sunlight poured down from above, like the heavens were opening up to me. The man motioned for me to follow up to the deck, explaining that men were still scouting to find Achilles. I nodded in reply and felt the spray of salt air wash itself on me as I walked to the front of the ship. Odysseus stood on the pier shouting orders and at the sight of my entrance to the outside world once again he climbed back on to the ship.

"We've found Achilles and his cousin. We'll leave soon." He walked back to the ramp that led to land, I by his side. "Hopefully, I can coax him into bringing his men, the Myrmidons, to sail with us to Troy." He looked at me, wondering which side I could really be on. Over the nights he had asked me to share my story, and I had openly shared every moment since Hector assigned me to watch over Helen. Twisting the truth to convince him, he still pondered over my destroyed loyalty to such a great city. _It is for the best. _I had told him. He seemed convinced enough to allow my presence. Now he looked at me sidelong, making me rotate my head to the side of the shore. "Why are you so fascinated with Achilles?" he asked. I spied him from the corner of my eye, still following him as he led me down the ramp and onto dry ground. My stomach lurched as my feet hit the dirt, my knees buckled from the steady land. Odysseus swept me up into his strong arms, waiting till I gained used to the ground before letting me go.

"He…he killed my mother and my brother, or so I've been led to believe," I responded, thinking of the dreams I had begun witnessing again, a past I had wished to forget. Odysseus eyes bulged as I told him the simple statement, and he shook his head in disagreement.

"Achilles has been known for inhumane things, but killing for the sake of killing is not one of those things. Who did you hear that from?" he acquired. I saw him out of the corner of my vision, holding steadily to the devastating story I could give, ones that he heard everyday on account to war life.

"I heard it from my father, the only man I trusted." I tried to hide that fact my hand went right to my weapon, but he saw. We walked on, and as we neared the crest of hill, Odysseus called on a group of men and told us to start walking. We stayed on the beach, moving east to another pile of ruins not far from us. I pulled on the hood of my cloak, concealing myself in the black fabric. Odysseus asked no questions, but looked at me with suspicion and misgiving. I didn't know who I'd run into, and I didn't want to be troubled at the moment.

"Trusted…as in he is dead?" Odysseus continued in question. When he saw my head dip up and down beneath the cloak he finished with, "I expect that was from whom you learned weaponry. I'm sorry for your loss." I chuckled at his pity that he felt he should not give but did so out of kindness.

"By then it was no loss to me, I grieved more at my mother's and brother's deaths. And as time wore on, I learned that my father's stories hid what he didn't want me to learn. I only wish to look at Achilles and assure myself that the man didn't do what my father said he did." I already felt beads of swear gather on my forehead but did nothing to stop it. The sun was not even in its fullest, I would learn to tough it out. Odysseus kept silent, proposing the hushed pact that the conversation was over as of this moment, but I took the soundless time to speak once more. "I believe that the reason he made the story up was so he had more power over me. He wanted me to believe it was him and only him that could ever achieve greatness. He was a power driven man, Agamemnon reminded me of my father, which is why my dislike grew so quickly for the "King of Kings". No my lord, when I buried my father I was in high spirits." Odysseus said no more, but I saw he was surprised. It was as if he was whispering to me in the hushed stillness: _What an interesting woman you have turned out to be, yet indescribable and blasphemous are your ways_.

We came to the ruins, sitting on top a hill where bushes and tress of dead growth threw out their wiry branches to hide the two men sporting. They bore strong wooden swords for practicing, each deflecting the other with perfect sweeps of their arms and perfect styles. I was dazzled at the way they moved, running about the ruins. It was a style of sword fighting I knew would take years to learn. And I yearned to learn it. One man was muscular then the other, with thick arms of trained years. He had bright blond hair, more golden than the younger man. The younger man was slightly taller and because of that his body muscle evened out, making him light, graceful and quick.

Though I could already guess the man with strong, toned body muscle who whipped and swiped at the other was Achilles, I marveled at the younger, who had taken an agreeable amount of years to learn the fighting ways of his cousin. I hung back as Odysseus moved on, then snuck away to get my own view of the men. The younger man's hair was bleach blond, shinning in the sun and plastered to his face from sweat. He looked so much like the older man that when they spun around in a blur of moves I could barely tell one from the other. I stared uncontrollably at the boy, guessing already what the connection between me and him that Odysseus mentioned. The boy was caught, his cousin's sword by his throat, then they mumbled some words I couldn't catch, and then the boy jumped, dodging what could have been a death's blow. Moving with elegant grace, he trapped his cousin in the same position, whispered again, this time they both chuckled.

I saw Odysseus and his men creep closer and closer, but I stayed back. Suddenly the older man grabbed a spear leaning on a fallen pillar, and hurled it through the air, scarcely aiming at a destination. The spear zoomed through the air and wedged itself in the trunk of a mangled tree, only inches form Odysseus's head. He snapped his head in spontaneous surprise, smiled at the man when who acknowledged his presence with the thrown weapon. The men around the charming Odysseus held up their weapons, but Odysseus ordered them to let the weapons down with a gentle wave of his hand. He trudged through the trees and came up to stand next to Achilles. I traipsed back through the trees to the group of gathered men and pushed past them to have a better look. The young man noticed me right away, but I was too hidden for him to see my face. Achilles and Odysseus began conversation instantly, leaving me to stare at the boy and he standing there, arms folded neatly in front of him, though he still clutched his makeshift sword. Then Odysseus turned around, Achilles staring straight at me with curiosity. I took the opportunity to spring form the bushes and walk my way up the steps to the men.

"This is Aldreana." Odysseus's voice reached my ears as I approached the men. "She says she came from Agamemnon's court, wishing to dismiss herself from it and come with me and my men. Her claim: To meet the great Achilles." I took the introduction to life my hood off. The boy gapped for seconds at me, then looked away, his cheeks turning a light crimson. Achilles looked me up and down as Odysseus allowed himself to continue. "She favors you more then Agamemnon and from the stories she tells, she meant be able to find out things for you."

"Oh! As in a spy?" Achilles interrupted curtly, but ingenuously. Odysseus didn't say no, but didn't say yes. I seized the moment to speak for myself.

"Would you rather have me sail back to Troy and tell them of you or for that matter back to Agamemnon? I have my reasons for coming, but like most secrets, they are better kept hidden," I said slyly, full of irony. Achilles sidestepped from one foot to the other. Though he was full of too much pride to smile, inside I knew he was. The boy behind him faked a cough, his lips curving as well. Achilles leapt upon me with mocking words.

"You are too headstrong for Troy, yet perfect for Agamemnon's fury. I can see why you found distaste in him and he in you. Whether you spy or not is your choice, I just pick the fates of those who wrong me." The boy's smile faded as Achilles curved to take a fleeting look at him, following my gaze. "This is my cousin Patroclus." The name stayed in my head forever. The boy bowed his head to Odysseus, only looking at me with sharp, clear blue eyes. Achilles saw the whole thing. "You are going to try to spy through my cousin?" he asked with ridicule and scorn. Odysseus brushed Achilles off me.

"Come now, this isn't the time for hasty words and charade. The girl has her life and as do you. What happens in the middle happens. Now then, to the point I came for, not the introduction and debate of Aldreana." He without delay went into conversation about Agamemnon and his pitch for Achilles. Achilles' face grew more serious and momentous with each word. Patroclus inside grew restless, but stayed put. I on the other hand, allowed my impertinence to show to the point where Achilles walked off in a huff by Odysseus's words and my actions. He stood in silence, looking out at the water, clear yet choppy.

"What if I don't go?" he asked. Odysseus signed deeply, knowing how far Achilles' tolerance with the King would last because of their enduring friendship over the years. Patroclus had begun to pick up the weapons, eager to be off now that he had the chance. He stopped when Achilles posed the question, looking from me back to his cousin and then to Odysseus.

Odysseus threw his arms in the air, with nothing more to say that would convince the man but, "I don't think you have the maximum amount of choices. Greece needs your help and I know Troy hasn't done anything to you…" He momentarily looked at me, waiting for secrets I'd be willing to contribute to. I shook my head. Achilles sighed deeply, spun around, his decision made.

"How long do you think Aldreana will have to stay here?" he inquired. I whirled around, looking to Odysseus to put out the fact I was coming. But Odysseus knew no more than I and asked Achilles for his advice.

"Well do you think it wise for her to stay? At least send her back to Agamemnon's or pay for her to go back when it's safe." Patroclus had stopped and looked at me, knowing I thought differently. I rounded up to Achilles.

"I'm coming with. When you sail to Troy so do I!" I protested. But Achilles had more anger up his sleeve then sarcasm. He buffed up his chest and pointed a finger at me.

"You must really want to die don't you? You are not coming with us. War is no place for a girl, even one such as you," he contradicted. My fury and annoyance rose to a nasty degree. Unaware, but by habit, I pulled my dagger out and lunged for Achilles, knowing full well that he could slay me easily. Patroclus threw himself on me, wrapping his arms around me gingerly yet firmly as he held me back. Odysseus did the same for Achilles, who had leapt for a spear, but the other man caught him. Patroclus gave me a warning glare and to sooth my rage softened his hold on me. My body melted from his touch, I became dazed, looking at the dagger and pocketing it in bemusement. Patroclus peered over his shoulder; Achilles had already let the matter go with simply shrugging Odysseus off. Patroclus held me for a moment longer, and then slowly uncurled his arms from around me. I fixed my eyes on him with one last mesmerized stare then, looked down, temporarily showing my hurt. Achilles finalized the discussion by hissing, "She is not coming along." Though at that moment, I believe it was centered more towards his cousin then Odysseus. In a huff, I pulled the cloak back around my face and ran down the hill, back to the ships. I let Odysseus and Achilles eat the dust that swirled up from my path.

It was insane, not allowing me to come along. Why if not for me they wouldn't get half way to where I could led them. I looked back behind me as I slowed my gait. The group of men and the two new recruits were not far off. Knowing they were watching me, I stepped up to the ramp and slowly boarded Odysseus's ship. The docks and piers were now busy, buzzing with life and even more ships then I wanted to take time to count. I took one more glance to Patroclus and I swear at that second the skin where his hands had laid prickled. _So, this is to be the end of my so called "journey"? _Men barking orders made me lift my head back up, a ship with black sails just docked, letting the anchor fall with a splash into the water. Men hopped off the ship's edge, not using the ropes dangling from the sides. I could only hope that these men were the Myrmidons, readying Achilles' ship. I looked back around, estimating the distance they still had to cover to reach me. I wasted no time. Edging to the ground, I made it look like stairs was what I was ascending down. The ship was vacant, not a soul noticed me. I crawled to the edge, my body hidden behind the revealed flapping mast. The fabric was thick and dark enough to hide my body. I took a deep breath then rolled over the edge, splashing into the water.

I swam as far as I could before lifting my head up for air. The ships covered me up from any overseers. I felt instantly refreshed by the cool water and waded in it for some time before comprehending how much faster they could walk then I could swim. I kicked my legs and waved my arms in and out of the water, my thick clothes dragging me under but I dared not let anything go, for I had uses for all the things. My body was tired by the time I made it to the ship with the black sails. My arms were like lead, and I examined the ropes with much consideration, wondering if my body was even strong enough to carry me up the ropes and into the cellar. I felt his touch even beneath the cold water and took the risks. Grapping hold of a dangling rope, as if it was laid there for me, I climbed up the side of the ship, checking behind me, I scanned for Achilles. But the ships now hid even him and the rest from view and them from me. Two men had stayed behind on the docks, but they were in such deep discussion that they noticed me not. I swayed over the edge of Achilles' ship, sucking in deep breaths as my body gave way of all strength.

Huffing and puffing for breath, I silenced them with my hand, noticing that voices were getting slightly, slowly closer. Then the closing distance stopped, the men's footsteps did so too. Enough time for me to make it. I crawled my way past the oars, to the latch that leads to below deck. A metallic smell met me when I opened it. The bottom of the ship was littered with all kinds of weapons. I clambered down the stairs, my knees buckling from under me. I picked the corner where shields were kept, moved them to the side and sat down next to them. Water dripped from my face, my clothes soaked the wood around me, but I cared not. My body was so tried I could not believe I made it, for right when I sat down, footsteps came from up above. I waited for some time before I heard Achilles come on, howling orders. The sound of the anchor startled me as it bounced off the side off the boat next to me, echoing loudly in my ears, I heard men heave a sigh as they pulled it up. Then it was the rhythm the men drove to, the beat the only way they rowed the ship. The oars clunked against the side of the ships. Not once did the latch open, I swelled with glee and pride at such a stealthy way I'd be traveling my voyage back to Troy. As the rowing lulled me into fatigue, I could imagine his gentle touch that only he and I shared. Achilles knew nothing of it.


	6. Conquering the Heart

**Chapter 5: Conquering the Heart**

_There was whispering coming from the next room. I inched closer and closer, trying to glimpse the people and the conversation. The hallway was dark; the last of the torch faded until it disappeared forever. My heart was pounding as I heard snatches of the men's words._

_"Do you think he'll have her do it soon?" a meek voice asked. I stopped dead, remaining silent as I caught the last of the words._

_"No! The girl is only fifteen, barely recognizing a sword yet, much less killing. No, the man still has a lot to teach his daughter, especially now that her brother is dead and finished with. The boy left Troy three years ago, she was devastated and now he's dead, lying in the sand next to his mother," a gruff man stated, sending chills up and down my spine. I instantly realized of whom they were speaking about and inching closer, I held my breath._

_"Yes, but I've seen her spirit, she could do it if he pushed her-"_

_"She would rupture the plan!" the gruff voice shouted, interrupting what the meek voice tried to contradict with. "Everything we have worked for, for so long could be destroyed and shattered in an instant because she is too soft to kill a few royal souls!" The man was speaking at an outcry now, so loud my ears rang. My head was thumping with a million questions, but the men continued, dragging me closer to my curiosity. There was hammering of feet as the man stalked back and forth across the room. I crouched low to the ground, squatting and resting my hands to support me from falling. The man continued to shout at the other meek one. "The boy was a bastard, didn't even want to hold a sword, and women aren't much better. What he sees in her I have no idea."_

"_I see great power in her, one so great that it will achieve everything we have worked so hard for. I'll bet-" The man with the timid voice cut off, listening for something. Suddenly there was a soft crunch of sprinkled sand on the ground being crushed harshly by feet. I spun around, my eyes wide, my hand rushing to my mouth in astonished surprise. There stood my father, his eyes beacons of fury and anger, splayed with furious emotions. I couldn't even predict the punishment that awaited me. The man slowly walked to the door and opened it a crack, sticking his head out. He had stringy brown hair and a scrawny face that reminded me of a rat. I peeked in, seeing the man with the gruff voice. He was tall, taller than any man I had seen, with arms of muscle and an ominous look of ferocity. I could tell that he took pleasure in killing for sport when he had the chance. The man with the timid eyes grew wide as he saw what lay before him, me sitting on the ground and my father, holding up his hand to strike me. But instead my father's hand swiped the man, creating a gash of blood on his cheek. The man gasped, a hand brushing away the blood but to no avail. My father twisted his ring back around his finger. I could see the strip of flesh hanging from it in a bloody fashion. I grimaced, and then looked to the man that whimpered and my father who had the evilest eyes._

"_Impudent fool!" my father screamed to the man. "What have I told you about making plans that could take your lives and what have I told you of speaking them to unwanted visitors!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, I was afraid they would burst. My body grew stiff as I watched two men appear behind the shadows, each carrying a spear and wearing Trojan armor. The man and the one standing close behind him in sick fury didn't see the others behind my father. "You both will regret this night." my father threatened. The man just stood there, shacking with dread and apprehension._

"_But my lord we didn't know the girl was here and-" My father's glare sent the man into silence. My father beckoned with his hand, the two men stepped from the shadows, bearing their spears on their chests. The men in the room both trembled, the one with the timid voice looked at my father for mercy. My father gave him none. I watched the men taken away with the guards grasping both their arms tightly. My father whispered something to a guard, who nodded and pushed the traitor in front of him. Then he turned again to me. He offered me his hand. The feeling was awkward as I stared at it, and then gingerly placed my fingers in his palm. He pulled me to his feet, bringing me close to his face._

"_Never do that again, you hear? Never eavesdrop on my men again!" he hissed in my ear, sending shivers uncontrollably down my spine. I flinched, tried to pull from him, but he held on to my arm securely. He eyed me before tossing me aside. I rubbed my arm, trying to get the welts to fade from my skin. His touch was like blistering fire. He turned to walk away, but I wasn't finished with what I had just heard._

"_So they were telling the truth?" I whispered in amazement. He whirled around, his cloak swirling behind him. He hesitated for a moment, as if that was the only truth I needed to know, that whatever I heard was the reality of it. He had killed my brother. My mother was still a mystery. He sighed, wrapping his arms around me in an affectionate embrace. I shivered, he backed away hurt. Then he stepped closer._

"_Oh my daughter, know that wine troubles the mind. Your mother and brother were both killed by Achilles and his raiding men, that's why we escaped to Troy, to be safe from that murderous man." When I didn't respond, he stroked my hair, and then pulled on it ruthlessly. "You know that, right?" he asked with an anger tone. I quickly nodded my head. He smiled with evil glee, and then walked back into the shadows. I felt my knees crumple from under me. I fell to the floor as I began to sob._

_

* * *

_The wooden ship pitched me forward. I awoke suddenly, catching a glimpse of a man before collapsing in his arms. I was breathing hard, in shock from the dream and the way he startled me with his presence. I dared not look up, afraid of who it might be when I recognized the arms that had held me once before. Patroclus held me until my breathing slowed, all the while holding me around the waist and shoulders. My head was resting on his chest. I could feel it rise with his breaths. And then he let me escape from his arms. I gasped, not wanting to leave his warmth. He looked at me with patient blue eyes. He brushed away a lock of hair, tucking it behind my ear.

"Patroclus…" I whispered, completely dazed as sleep wore itself off me. He nodded.

"You were dreaming," he remarked. I nodded numbly. "Of what? Tell me." He wanted to confront me, which I wasn't about to object to. He didn't move, but stayed close incase the ship would overthrow me again and he would need to catch me. I looked around me, splinters of sunlight peeked through the thin cracks above me, sending down small rays onto me and Patroclus. There was enough light for me to see his face, which I could barely rip my eyes from.

"I dreamt of my past. The memories will haunt me forever. I will never forgive my father for what he did," I responded. He stared quizzically at me, but kept silent. I felt his touch on my shoulder. His hips drew closer to me as he shifted his body, laying his feet out bent in front of him, and sitting next to me. _Continue, please…_he seemed to whisper. I exhaled, taking a deep breath, revealing secrets that only Hector and I knew. "My family never used to live in Troy. I was too young to remember the green fields; the oasis where legend has it a goddess dipped her baby in to grant him immortality and invulnerability. All I knew was that our house, the stone structure in the middle of the city was attacked, my mother killed, I was only nine. To escape them and live in safety, my father moved me and brother to Troy. There, my father began to teach my brother how to be a warrior so he could keep the family name just. My brother wanted to be a scholar and gave up his life of weaponry. My father began to teach me instead. I was twelve when my brother left. I was just fifteen when the girl told me and my father he had been murdered. By then I could only guess who it was: Achilles."

Patroclus drew away, but his hand still wrapped itself around my shoulder. He let it sink in before moving closer again. "My cousin would never kill cold blood. He would never kill for the sake of killing," he retorted. I nodded, showing I knew full well of Achilles capability. He waited for me to continue, taking a glance back at the door that led down to the cellar.

"How could Achilles kill for bliss and love a cousin so much? I see the way he cares for you." He didn't answer, letting me speak on. "My father told me of Achilles when I was young, when I asked why my brother had to learn to fight. It was so he and my father could protect us from Achilles, who had attacked our home that night and killed my mother. My father told everyone that my brother died in combat, so naturally it could have been Achilles." Patroclus nodded, though he was still disturbed by my story. "Only the girl and I knew the truth my father was hiding. It was some months after when I came upon a conversation between two men. They spoke of me, a plot and the will I hadn't yet succeeded in learning. My father caught me, but instead punished the men. But after those words, I believed nothing he said, I had lost all my faith in the hero I had followed my whole life. I had believed that my father was the strongest man alive, that Achilles was a murderous man. Little did I know that the truth was so clear: my father only wanted power and had used me to get what he wanted." Tears had welled in my eyes. I looked away, but Patroclus enclosed a hand around my chin, pulling me back to face him. I refused to let him see me cry, biting my lip till the tears receded.

"What did your father do that made you doubt him?" He asked lightly, caringly. I smiled, touched by his concern. Tears rolled down my cheeks, I bit down my pride and let them. I felt his hands wrap further around me.

"The men said that my father killed my mother and brother, my mother for not bearing a suitable son for him and my brother who wished to have nothing to do with killing. Now I see my brother was the smart one." I faked a smile as I remembered him pushing the dagger into my hands. Patroclus asked for no more, seeing my hurt.

His only reaction was, "Do you take pride in nothing?" The question made me grimace, he didn't catch the face. "Who says you weren't the smart one?" The question was left in the open air. I looked up at him. He was smiling slightly, enough for me to know his true thoughts. Silent enveloped its way around us. Patroclus carefully moved his arms from me, resting them on his knees. I looked at him, hoping my eyes could convince him to move them back into the warm embrace we had stayed in, but he didn't do anything. Finally I spoke again.

"How long have you known I've been here?" I asked. Patroclus went into deep thought.

"I came down awhile ago to grab the shields, I noticed you bundled in the cloak, shivering. When I came again you were tossing and turning, dreaming. I stayed down here to make sure no one would hear. I also brought down an extra blanket, but you threw it off." I murmured my thanks, turning crimson imagining me dreaming and him sitting and watching. Patroclus seemed unaware of my embarrassment. "What are you doing here?" he asked suddenly. "I saw you climb aboard Odysseus's ship," he stated. I grinned in pleasure.

"You saw me climb down the ship, when really I snuck to the side and jumped off. Then I swam to Achilles' ship and came down here." He seemed impressed by my actions and I let him know that he should. "You asked if I take pride in anything, well that is one of them. Who else do you know that slink through a city and palaces, through countries and past kings?" Patroclus smiled playfully. "As for my past, I took pride in nothing. I'm not proud of what I did, but it had to be done. I'd rather come with you to Troy then go back to Agamemnon any day. I would've been forced to come with him to Troy, but then I would've forever stayed with him, become his entertainment when war bored him. Achilles in my eyes is much better a man to deal with." I looked at him, his eyes winked at me with enjoyment. "And what of you, or are you as hidden as the Great Achilles?" I mused. He shrugged his shoulders.

"My parents died, I'm an orphan taken in by Achilles. He taught me how to fight with a sword." He imagined a sword in his hand right now, one that he wanted to swipe the enemy to pieces with. I knew that sword was a passion for us both, another comparison that Odysseus linked us to. I envied him.

"You're lucky to be taught by such a great warrior. Men would kill to be in the position you are." Again he shrugged his shoulders, not wanted to boast about what he knew was true. "I would live to see the day when I could be taught sword like you, and when I could fight like Achilles, my life would be spent." I imagined the power, the glory I could gain from one such as Achilles or Patroclus.

A wave suddenly smacked into the boat, tipping it to the side. Again I was thrown from my spot, Patroclus took the liberty of catching me. This time he held me still, even after the boat had gained balance gain. He stared down at me. I stared with my headstrong eyes that got me into this mess, this mess I didn't want to leave now, all because of him.

"I could teach you. Maybe when this war is finished we will see each other again." My head snapped up in surprise. Patroclus looked at me a second longer before standing up, his hand tracing around my face. My face belied the hurt feelings I suddenly felt. He had begun to ascend the steps when I spoke up.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, showing my hurt feelings. He showed just the same.

"Achilles will ask you to leave when you get off this boat. You will go back to Troy and to keep us all safe, you will stay in the walls. I don't want to see you get hurt over something like that. That's why I am making sure Achilles doesn't find you. Hopefully I can see you make it to the wall safely." It was a promise he meant to keep, one I meant to break.

* * *

_My father left me alone in that hall, crying to no one. I heard the sound of horse's hooves. They pulled me to the window on the second story of the building. The two guards had left, leaving the traitors to my father to be dealt with. And deal with them he did. He pulled out his sword, the sharp point glistening in the moonlight._

"_What did I say about keeping secrets?" he snarled. The men both kneeled on the ground, wavering from my father's anger. He waited for their reply, but they were dead silent. "Don't underestimate my daughter. Do not take Aldreana too lightly. But it seems that is what you did. If you were not such idiotic bastards, she would not know of our little plot, would she? She would know nothing about my plan to use her to kill the Princes, granting me to lift her to the throne. I am one of Priam's favored council members. With his sons out of the way, who does that leave to mount to the throne? Huh?" he shouted. When nether responded, he picked up a spear sticking from the ground next to him. He hefted it lightly, and then sneered at the tall man. The taller man gulped. My father threw the spear with all his might. The weapon drove through the man's chest, and stuck out the other end in bloody disarray. I screamed, but was not loud enough for my father to hear as I stifled it with my clammy hand. The other man sniveled, stood up and began to run away. My father chucked his sword at the man. It sank into the man's neck, slicing his throat and tearing off half his head. I grimaced, feeling my stomach churn. My father had just killed two men in cold blood. Unable to believe the ineffable sight, I felt my stomach agitate. I vomited over the side of the window before fainting, falling to the ground._

_

* * *

_A grunt woke me up again, this time the blanket was wrapped firmly around my arms and body. I wondered if Patroclus had been back, when I saw the shadow of a man move not far in front of me. _Aldreana…_ I heard the whisper, perhaps it was Patroclus, and perhaps it was the dreams still haunting me.

"Patroclus?" I whispered. Rough hands suddenly grabbed me from all angles. I yelled out in anger and surprise, feeling foolish of calling his name. Had he betrayed me? His warm, sincere eyes flooding back into my mind. No, he hadn't.

"Ah, is this the Trojan spy?" they remarked, a group of three men carried my foot and arms, while the other opened the latch to the above deck. I wriggled and struggled violently, but it was no use. "We'll see what Achilles thinks of her," one sneered. I panicked, screaming for them to let me go but they didn't listen. Sunlight blinded me. My eyes squeezed shut, red spots appearing in my vision. The sound of the waves crashing against the ship made me open my eyes again. Achilles stood at the front of the ship, looking out at the sea. He didn't turn at my screams or shouts, his hands held behind his back in majestic fashion. He was dressed in a black tunic and body armor. I could only guess what beach was nearing. The men grasped me firmly, tugging me towards him. Each man who wasn't rowing gathered around, watching me struggle to get free. Among them I saw Patroclus push through, his eyes wide with fright and surprise. A man with jet black hair, and a weather-beaten, haggard face looked over at confusion at Patroclus's fear. He had dark eyes and a black scarf tied around his head. He eyed me outlandishly, speculating if I could be trusted.

"Let go of me!" I yelled furiously. "Let me go now!" The men obeyed and flung me to the ground, leaving me in a spasm of aches and bruises. I felt a knife's tip stab at my back, the one of many. Achilles turned from his position. He held a knife to my throat.

"I thought I told you to go to Odysseus's ship?" he asked. I glared at the knife, then at him. "Perhaps you need to be taught how to listen," he put forth. I peered over my shoulder, straight into a man's legs that stood behind me. I looked back to Achilles and smiled unrepentantly.

"Maybe that's one thing you need to learn that I don't do." I shoved my elbow into the man's legs with all my might. At the same time the boat lunched forward, toppling the man over. His sword flew from his hands, skidding across the ground to my feet. I picked it up and stood up swiftly. The flesh of my back tore open along with my clothes, revealing a new hideous slash. I screamed, yet held the men at bay with my sword, keeping it on the brink and poised.

"No, don't hurt her!" Patroclus yelled, right when Achilles ordered, "Enough!" Both Achilles and I glanced at Patroclus, Achilles glare sending him into silence. He eyed me with forewarning, and then tucked himself into the horde of men. The man with the scarf and dark eyes looked once more at him with perplexity. Achilles calmed himself, though the men stared at him in bemusement, all glancing at me and my weapon. Achilles held out his hand to stop me from any actions that could be ill-fated.

"Aldreana, let go of the sword," he cautioned. I felt blood, hot and thick, pour down my back. The feeling was reciprocated. "Let go of the sword," he said again. Patroclus's eyes told me to let it go, to listen to him. Unwilling to let Achilles win, I spun the sword over my head, then came back and pointed it at Achilles. He eyed me with enjoyment and contentment. "Let go of it!" And I did. I hurled the sword into the air. Men watched it fly over their heads and splash into the sea. The man whose sword I had taken jabbed me the back with his knee, sending me to the ground in agony. I was unaware of the scorn Patroclus would receive, but he cared little as well as he ran to my side and helped me to my feet. Achilles glared angrily at his cousin, but Patroclus was unyielding. Achilles stood as close as he would allow himself to me. "That was a nice sword," he claimed. His anger faded, leaving me in amazement. He snickered at me turning back to the front of the ship. The men all looked down in disappointment; hoping one would be able to claim me. Patroclus already had. Patroclus let go of me, wiping my blood on his equally black tunic that all the men wore: the cloth of the Myrmidons. Achilles waited for me to come forth, standing next to him before he spoke up. "Your courage will kill you someday. Your curiously will too." He looked down at me, I stared out at sea. There were no other ships ahead of us, yet I heard the sound of rowing other then here. I swiveled my head and my mouth was agape. Behind us were at least one thousand ships, all bearing the symbol on their mast of another city beyond Troy. They all carried men who waited for their ship to hit land. They waited to conquer the beach.

"I'm not as daring as you. I'm surprised Agamemnon has let you sail before him." The remark was candid, we both knew the answer. Achilles glanced back at the army set out to destroy Troy, all for one woman.

"He hasn't, but it matters not because I don't follow him, the question is who do you follow?" he asked. I shrugged my shoulders. "No one?" he tried to acquire. I shook my head. "I thought it would be Hector or even Agamemnon," he replied to the silence I gave him.

"It was Hector, but then Helen left with Paris, leaving me to Menelaus' scorn. And then I approached Agamemnon, but he wanted nothing to do with me. So I guess I could go back to the King of Kings, but I believe you would want me to stay away from him," I answered slyly, already ready for his respond and my counter one.

"It matters to me not who you will follow, but now I have you here with me and I could just as easily keep you captive," he mentioned, mimicking my sarcasm. I smiled.

"Ah, you could keep me, but what if I escape and then go to Agamemnon or even back to Troy's walls? I'm sure they would gladly accept a spy to watch over Achilles for them, the greatest warrior ever. Maybe, I'll even find his weakness and then the great legend will fall." Achilles rubbed fatigue from his face, chuckling at my smart comments.

"I'm not that easy to kill, and I won't let you escape that effortlessly." He turned serious. "In fact I won't let you go until I have what you have taken from me." I stared at him in misunderstanding. "I want my men to have their weapons, now one is short a sword." The beach of Troy had risen, getting bigger and bigger as we sailed closer and closer to it. He proposed his plan. "When we land, men will stay behind and anchor. The rest will jump off with me and attack the Trojans. You know this city very well. I expect you to jump off with us and run to the wall the safest way you can, sneak in and buy a sword, or maybe even steal one, for the roads will be chaos when we land. Bring it back to the man at our camp. Once you have completed that, you are free to go back to Troy or Agamemnon, I care not." I looked to the beach. A line of men could be seen and beams of wood sharpened to points and sticking up from the ground. I already figured what route I could take, looking to the temple not far from the beach. I nodded, sealing the deal. My stomach launched in praise as I thought of being able to see Patroclus once more when I returned. Achilles looked over my back. Blood had soaked the whole back side of the cloth. "Will you be alright?" he asked. I nodded. He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, and then remembered my handle of a sword. The man with the black band across his forehead came up behind us.

"My lord, shouldn't we wait for the others?" he posed. Achilles took one look at the other thousand ships behind us. His men would be alone for quite a while. Patroclus stepped behind the man, holding a spear. He looked once at me, his eyes full of relief that I was satisfactory. I felt my heart flutter, knowing no man had cared for me this much. Achilles shook his head.

"No Eudorus," he said. "The second we land we attack that beach." Eudorus bowed his head and had begun to turn him away. "Oh, and one more thing," Achilles said. Eudorus waited for the request and command. "No one is to harm Aldreana." Eudorus eyed me with aversion.

"But she is a spy," he alleged, but Achilles' look made the new command final. He bowed his head then turned to tell the commands to the other men and crew. Patroclus replaced Eudorus, hefting the spear and shield with years of practice, no true experience. Achilles laid his hand on the spear.

"Put it away cousin, you're staying here and watching the ship." My heart lifted another degree while Patroclus's dropped several.

"But I want to fight!" he protested. Achilles shook his head, declaring his order concluded and he expected all men to obey.

"You stay and watch over the ship. This is not the time for you to fight." Patroclus opened his mouth, then shut it. Frustrated and dissatisfied beyond belief, he threw the spear brutally off to the side and shook the shield off his arm. He stalked to the latched door that led below deck, and didn't look back as he slammed it shut following him. Achilles didn't show a sign of mercy or remorse. I took my leave and walked to a spot on the ship where I could look out and not be troubled by the sights that flew up to me.


	7. The Chosen Side

**Chapter 6: The Chosen Side**

"You stay and watch over the ship. This is not the time for you to fight." Patroclus opened his mouth, then shut it. Frustrated and dissatisfied beyond belief, he threw the spear brutally off to the side and shook the shield off his arm. He stalked to the latched door that led below deck, and didn't look back as he slammed it shut following him. Achilles didn't show a sign of mercy or remorse. I took my leave and walked to a spot on the ship where I could look out and not be troubled by the sights that flew up to me.

Troy grew larger and larger, till I could stand it no longer. I was torn by thoughts, memories and new feelings. Where would I go after I brought back Achilles' man's sword? I yearned to stay with the Myrmidons; I was safe, by order of Achilles. I could picture his face, the beauty stares back at me, the hard wood creaks on either side of me as the water pulls me closer to the shores. His face, soft, surprised and fully aware of my presence to an extent, all of these memories flash into my head. I could feel his touch, the gentle sweep of his arm around me. I wanted him, he wanted me. And yet, we had to stay away from each other, to save ourselves from a painful death. _If Hector catches me… I'll_ _be killed, tortured, banished from Troy forever._ I stuck up my pride. _Then so be it,_ I thought and rushed down to the door that led below deck. I climbed down the slimy, creaking wooden steps. The wood, soften from water and old age, groaned under my feet. My eyes absorbed the sunlight, then adjusted to the darkness. I looked around, found the bundle of my blanket, and cloak. I quickly rushed to the clothes, throwing away the blanket and tossing the cloak aside. I panicked, the dagger was gone. Terrified, I scanned around the place where the clothes had been. Cold metal tapped my shoulder. I spun around, his now anger filled blue eyes softened as he handed me my dagger. I looked with thankfulness at the dagger, slipping it back into the loop around my belt. Patroclus smiled, pleased I was happy once more.

"I didn't want anyone to take it from you if they caught you. A dagger like that must mean something to you," he said. I nodded, still not looking at his face. When I did, my stomach knotted with trembling feelings. I melted, throwing my arms around his shoulders. He didn't stiffen, but moments passed before he slipped his arms round my waist. The hug lasted more than I wanted it to, I knew Troy was approaching. I pulled away, he tugged me back, then let go. "Whose was it? The dagger?" he sought to know. I felt his fingers trail up my arm.

"It was my brother's," I whispered, barely able to get the words out. His other hand went closer to my back, till he scraped the new scar that entered its way into my flesh. I winced, drawing back. Patroclus whispered his apologizes. "He gave it to me when he said that I was the warrior, not he," I finished. Once again I felt his hand along my back, the other traveled to my cheek, caressing it softly. "One day, when we meet again, I will tell you the whole story, I promise." His eyes grew wide, I brushed away a lock of blond hair from his eyes. The antagonism reappeared, the irritation and fury he didn't want to place on me, but rather his cousin when given the chance.

"I don't want to say goodbye and then wait to meet you again. You entrance me, I can't explain it. I've only seen you for fleeting moments. Stay with me," he protested. Tears welled up in my eyes, I blinked them away. No, I had never felt this way with a man before. As if that was the farewell, he dropped his hands and let me go about my way back up to the deck. I grabbed my cloak, tying it around my neck. As I ascended the stairs, I looked once more to Patroclus, he let go of his rage to show his twinkling eyes once more. I pulled on the hood and reentered sunlight. As if the men had known for ages, they didn't turn when I stepped lightly around and through them, used to my presence, or ignoring me with suppressed fury. The clouds hid the sun for a split second, then beamed down on me once more. Achilles had placed on the rest of his black armor, the same with most of the men coming with him. He saw my face from beneath the hood and heaved a sigh.

"When you bring me the sword, the best thing for you to do is return to Troy, and reclaim your position," he advised. Wind blew back the hood, revealing my expressionless face, yet Achilles seemed to know the words spoken between Patroclus and me. I forgot about the hood and looked up at him. Twenty feet to go till we hit land. My heart skipped a beat. I wanted to rush back below deck, throw my arms around him and never let go. But then I would lose all the chances of seeing him after, here I still had waiting moments. Ten feet. My body grew tense as I looked at the sharp logs and poised men. Courage was needed at the moment.

"I could, but then if I came back you wouldn't trust me, because I could once again be a spy for Troy," I retorted with. Achilles gestured a smile of amusement, for then he jumped from his fleet. The ship sunk into sand, and the men jumped off with me. The land made my stomach lurch, the waves now missing, but I continued to run. While Achilles and his men occupied the Trojans, attacking them violently and with great force, I ran behind them and up the sandy hill. The sand soon became frequent as I came upon hard ground, my feet now used to the steadiness, I ran at the top speed I could muster. I heard thick footsteps form behind. I pulled out my dagger and swung at the air as I spun around. But the man was a Myrmidon, following to make sure I got to the wall. I made a face, Achilles need not give me help, and I knew the way around the city. I stopped and the man stopped too, breathing hard. I pointed with my knife to the battle that now raged behind us.

"Go back and fight, I need none of your help!" I yelled. The man seemed startled, but reluctantly drew back to his commander's battle. I trudged my way up the hill, thinking of the best way to get in. I looked up at the wall, there were guards stationed at every crevasse within the stone. They all held up bows and had already nocked arrows. I began searching for a new way. I glanced at the secret entrance only few men knew. It was guarded already. I could see the man's face through the small hole in the wall that let in only those who knew passwords or who had royalty weighed upon their chests. I was considered close enough as the courtier to Briseis. I dodged a sudden flying arrow, and then continued my way on. The pounding of horses' hooves made me spin around in surprise and alertness. The huge doors of Troy opened to allow the Prince Hector and his men through to the battle on the beach. I ran to him, not believing my luck. The man riding next to him saw me, the dagger in hand and began lifting his spear. Then Hector's eyes befell on me. He was awed at my presence, his hand shot out to stop the man. The man was appalled at Hector's actions, but listened to his lord's wishes. Hector flew up to me, I hadn't noticed tears from the wind and the thought of Patroclus had sprung to my eyes.

"Did they hurt you?" he demanded. I stared up at him in confusion, and then shook my head. I would play by his rules.

"No my lord, Achilles…" I hesitated, thinking of the freedom that Achilles had easily and willingly granted me. "Achilles took me hostage, but I escaped when he jumped from the ship to attack the beach." I added a moment of loyalty to my Prince. "My lord you must stop him!" At that instant I heard a spear whiz through the air. I spun around; the spear missed me by an only a tiny extent, and then sunk into the man riding next to Hector. The dead man toppled over his horse, red hair mixing with the blood the leaked from his chest. Hector looked to his man, then gazed up with fuming and mad eyes to the man who dared kill his right hand man, almost me and him. It was Achilles himself, his body glistened with sweat, his chest heaving and his armor and weapon sprinkled with other's blood. Hector hissed something at me, but I couldn't hear it as he kicked his horse into gallop, the men following close behind in a cloud of dust. Knowing I had precious time now, I ran to the doors. The man glared at me, refused to open the large doors but rather the small one to the side. I slipped under the man's outstretched hand that held the door and breathed back the air of Troy. The city was amuck with men and woman rushing to their homes, grabbing their belongings from the market and hiding in their stone fortresses. I pitied them, yet envied them as well. They were safe from the blood and gore, yet would receive the biggest blow from the Greeks. I sprinted down the road and entered another section of the now vacant market place. There were stands of clothes, food and trading opportunities from other counties.

I scanned each stand quickly as I jogged past them, on my way down the maze of a city to the blacksmith. I spied a stand with soft fabric, and picking through it quickly found a light green chiton to replace the one I had lost in Menelaus' court. I also stole another silk cloth of pale yellow to drape over the green dress. Wrapping it in a bundle, I snuck it under my arm, covering it all with my dark cloak. As I came to the end of the street where the wall towered in front of me, a bloom of smoke withered its way around me, creeping into my nose with a spiteful metallic taste. I looked up, to find a chimney a few buildings away, with a hot atmosphere to it. I took this as my destination and ran into the home and shop. Closing the door behind me, I heard the coo of a sleeping babe. Ignoring it, I looked for a proper sword. The wall was littered with weapons, some furnished and sparkling, others still needed in the works and forge. I eyed them all before coming upon a nice sword fit for any soldier with no mark of Troy yet embedded in it. I picked it from its holster in the wall, my face reflecting in it.

"May I help you? The forgery is not a place for ladies such as you," the sharp feminine voice echoed in my ears. The sword clanked, rumbling in my ears as it hit the ground. I turned around, a tall woman with broad shoulders and a large figure eyeing me from the doorway to the other room.

Since I was breathless, the woman asked no excuses when I said, "Where is the blacksmith?" The woman brushed away a lock of long black hair that escaped her braid, her hands on her hips. From the heat of the forgery and the sun, her face was red and sweaty. She eyed me with distrust and who better to do so. I was dressed in foreign clothing and was trying my best to tuck a stolen outfit under my arm. My hair was knotted and full of streaked blond sections form my days at sail.

"He is with all the other men fighting, the Greeks have attacked the city." Perhaps she thought I was dumb, I thought of the words irrelevant since I didn't look as if I had been walking the streets of Troy this morning. But a sudden wail from down the hall tore her eyes that disturbed me away, as she ran to fetch the crying babe. When I couldn't see her any more, I grabbed the fallen sword and to my advantage an empty scabbard on my way out. I scampered down the street and almost slid turning the sharp corner. I smacked my back against the wall, taking deep breaths. The wall, unlike the weather, was cool and refreshed my back. I waited for the screaming that would claim thievery, but the woman was too stuck up with her children to notice a missing sword. _She probably thought I had placed it back where it belongs, _I thought hopefully. I began to trot down the street again, knowing full well I couldn't exit the way I entered.

Stuffing the sword next to my clothes, I ran down another alley. The street ended, but the passage did not. The back end of homes loomed to one side, the double stories full of dark, yet benevolent looking windows. I pressed against an uneven stone in the interior of the great immense wall, and like magic the large stone was pushed inside, exposing a hallway that went through the thick wall and out to the other side through another passage like this, leading me to the freedom I sought after. I bent over and walked gingerly into the hall, catching my breath and yet holding it for it caused too much noise. Sand crunched under my feet and I soon came to the end of the line. A hatch opened up to the peeking hole where I had seen the man's face before. Now his dead body was strewn in blood, arrows and the broken tip of a spear. His eyes were wide with surprise, it was obvious someone had made him open the hatch, and then killed him through the small opening. I was surprised at my luck, then looked to the closed hatch. I slowly opened it and gasped, glazed over eyes staring death at me. Muffling my scream, I nudged the stone that again did not meet the others. Again it was pushed out, divulging the beaches of Troy. I crept out and looked around. The man that had been propped on the door, fell with a heavy thud to the ground. I realized someone had attracted the men to come out of the secret passage and then were killed. I prayed they were no Trojans I knew, for I couldn't picture their faces alive in the mangled mess they were placed in before death.

I looked back to the beach. Every boat had landed and had let forth the men to attack the shores. No Trojan who had stood within the stance of the sharpened logs was alive and breathing. I prayed with empathy for the fallen men, then made my way back to the ship with black sails. On the way I caught sight of the Temple. The golden statue of Apollo was now beheaded and all the horses were not bearing men. _Achilles led Hector in there?_ I thought with suspicion. Not caring, but rather enjoying all my fortune and providence, I began walking back to Patroclus, pulling my hood over my head to conceal myself from the men making tents and camps already. The sun had began to set, leaving shimmering colors of red, orange, yellow and purple mixed with blue over the horizon and the ocean.

Patroclus remained motionless, drenched with anger over his cousin. He sat on the rim of the ship, watching the other men left behind build tents. They neither asked for his help nor what troubled him. For his eyes were so full of menace that any man was afraid to even approach the young man. All were frightened and troubled but I, who climbed over the crest of the sand hill and ran for him. My body tired, I stepped close to the peak of the hill, when a man called for me.

"You! I believe you have something for me," he shouted. The sand peeled itself into my sandals, but I cared not as I hulled my body and made it turn around. The man who I had elbowed and robbed of his weapon stood a few feet from me, holding out his hand. He was done reckoning with me, just stayed silent and waited for me to give up my stolen treasure. I opened up my cloak and pulled forth the sword protected in the scabbard. I held onto the leathered point, handing over the hilt to him. His arm pulsed with his movements around his new weapon. The metal rang across the leather material as he pulled it out, striping my face with light. My eyes squinted from beneath my hood from the reflected light, but he took no notice. He tied the casing to his belt and seethed his sword.

"It's a nice sword, but I dare not complement the maker of it," he presumed, then turned back around and walked down the hill towards the temple to join Achilles in the last fight. I sneered at him with my eyes, full of scorn and displeasure. Ready to follow him and strike him if need be, I clenched my fists, my body obeying and cooling down. _Not even a bit of thanks, I should take that sword and throw it into the ocean as well, then we'll see what he thinks._ Knowing my idea was irrational, I started my walk back to the ship. The sun blared into my eyes, as I moved my head, the mast blocked the bright light and showed a shadow amongst the dimming bodies that moved around. Patroclus was seating on the rim of his cousin's ship, moping over what had happened before. He looked up and saw me, I could almost feel his eyes lighting up as his anger diminished. I immediately ran down the small hill, coming up breathless to him. The wind brushed back the hood and waved through my hair, turning it into knotted waves that gloated over its stunning sparkle in the sun. Patroclus stayed where he was, but held out a hand. I grasped it firmly and I felt his strong muscles go to work as he lifted me into the air and onto the boat beside him. We now sat a couple feet up, the anchored boat bobbing us up and down as we dangled our feet over the edge. Patroclus stared with amazement at me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with great urgency. I smiled a sly smile, then brushed away a lock of his hair the wind blew into his charming face.

"I decided which side I will come to in this war. I don't want to wait to meet you again either." Patroclus edged closer to me, smiling with enjoyment. "Now I can tell you about my past and you can teach me your sword maneuvers." He nodded, looking down at me sidelong. I took the liberty of resting my tired head on his shoulder. I thought it awkward, but yet didn't want to retire from his warm touch. My body was sent into a flood of shivers. I untied my cloak and threw it behind me to the ship's floor, along with my new bundle of clothing. Patroclus looked to the clothes, then at me with an amused look. "I can't stand this clothing from Greece. I much prefer soft silk from Troy." He rubbed his chin, hiding his smile. Then he became serious.

"Whatever happens, you know you're safe here, right?" he acquired. I nodded, knowing that what he would try to mention would be what I wanted to hear from him. "Achilles told the men not to harm you. And I want to make sure they don't." I felt a warm feeling drizzling down my back. A stinging sensation ran its way up my spine and Patroclus seemed to notice it too. "Your back!" he exclaimed. "It's bleeding again." I heard a rip as he tore a section from his sleeveless shirt, soaking up the new blood with it. "You should really clean this up," he advised. I dipped my head up and down, staring at his face with wild eyes. His fingers were tender and gentle. Suddenly all the aches in the world seemed to sweep over my body. I looked over my shoulder, watching him care over my wound. His face was constricted in concentration, troubled by something greater than my wounded back. I grabbed his hands, holding the bloody rag with him.

"What happened? Why are you so troubled?" I asked in wonder, wishing to hear of his past. He didn't meet my eye, but kept soothing my stinging back. It was something harsh, something that he'd rather forget. Finally he gave in, and acceded in telling me.

"When I was a boy I was playing with a friend. And that boy was killed that same day, right in front of my eyes." I could imagine the sight for such young eyes to see. It was not just, not proper and I wished to welcome his troubled soul into my arms, telling him all was alright. He caught my stare, my look in question of who would do such a thing to such a young life. "He died that day because I killed him." I gasped, averting my eyes and staring into his dark clad chest. So many relations Odysseus described. Patroclus was hurt by my actions and tore his arm away. I looked up, showing him my sorrow, not my disparagement. "I did it on accident, but yet the country sought to toss me out, declaring to everyone that I was a murderer. Achilles heard of what happened to me and took me in. I can barely remember anything before that day, nothing about my parents." I saw his dilemma and difficulty. I saw how that memory tore at his heart and ripped it to pieces. I laid a hand on his shoulder, turning him to me.

"You can not be blamed for something so tragic that you never wanted to happen. I do not blame you, but the people who showed you no love and kicked you out do and they are wrong. Achilles was right to take you in, and teach you not to despair and suffer in misery." I smiled a genuine smile, which he cherished. Then he wrapped his arm around my back, still dabbing the cloth onto the blood that circled around the torn flesh. Time seemed to stop, sleep and drowsiness seemed to stop and I loved the touch of the man seated next to me. There was no more talk of ruined pasts, no more sorrow passed and we both watched the sun go down into the ocean, darkness enveloping around us. I nodded asleep once or twice, but Patroclus refused to disturb me. When I did wake it was because Achilles had finally returned and wanted to round up his men. He looked at me, but I still rested my head on his cousin's chest.

"Patroclus, your tent has built," he indicated a tent close to his own. Then he looked to me. "It is not safe for you to stay here. Agamemnon is already aware of your presence, as are most men who have passed by to see you two." He spat the last word out, not yet accepting what I and Patroclus had shared together. I found him ill-tempered and arrogant. "I advise you to leave here, go back to Troy and stay there." I lifted my head.

"I have chosen my side that I will follow-"

"But no one else has. For your life and Patroclus's, you need to leave!" Achilles interrupted in a booming voice, so conceited it made me cringe. He glanced once at Patroclus, whose head was bowed, not wanting to be punished once more today for his actions. Then Achilles turned and walked away, stalking into his own tent. I looked up at Patroclus. He handed me the cloak and clothes.

"I don't want to go," I protested. He nodded, fully aware of what we both wanted. But we knew that it truly couldn't be done. I jumped down from the boat, sending needles of pain down my spine. I started to walk away when Patroclus grabbed my shoulder, spinning me back around as he jumped off.

"I want to see you again. You were able to sneak your way in and out once, please do it again. Please." He looked down at me, his blue eyes tantalizing till I could stand it no longer. I lifted my face to his and our lips met. His lips were gorgeous, something I never tasted before. I didn't want to it end, his tongue mixing with my own. It was the best moment and I knew that fate had made me sleep that night Helen escaped, that doom dragged me to Odysseus and he let me join him. Perhaps it was again destiny that led me to the ruins and let me stare at his handsome face and body. But the time went by too soon and we parted. His breathing was fast and I realized I hadn't been breathing at all. Catching it, I closed my eyes, feeling every part of the kiss that still left my lips tingling. He snuck his hand through my hair, then let me go as I began to step backwards, unable to let him from my sight. "Aldreana, please…" he whispered. He savored every part of that kiss.

I walked through the camp, numb with anxiety, so numb I noticed not the men behind me, following me with sneering eyes. My head was bent down, following the sand and the trail left by others. Fires blazed all around and I looked up in surprise when a fire log collapsed, sending sparks into the air. It was as if every sound was delayed in my ears. I looked up to find a man standing in front of me, bearing strong arms and sneering with aspiration at me. He stood arms crossed, with a look of happiness on his face now that he had trapped his prize. I looked around at the sound of many other snickering men, comprehending they had cornered me. I looked at the leader, the man in front of me.

"What do you want with me?" I asked in annoyance. _Agamemnon is already aware of your presence… _Achilles words penetratingly said to me in my head. The men laughed at my snobbish and haughty attitude, then one from behind grabbed my arm, twisting it. Another scratched his fingers along my back, placing them in every point of my wound. I shirked in pain, my knees wobbling. The man bent down to met me eye to eye.

"Agamemnon wishes a word with you." Each laughing at the pain I received with each grate along my back, they led me through the maze of tents to the largest one in the center of the huge camp. New blood dripped off the torn clothes, mixing into the sand and dirt. The tent flap opened and the man pushed me in, only one stayed with me. The tent had each side full of gold, weapons and trophies, it was as if Agamemnon could not part with his wealth. He sat on a throne, talking to a man. At my entrance they both looked up, the other being Odysseus. His eyes grew wide at the new sight of my tear stained cheeks and ruffled hair.

"Aldreana…" he whispered. Agamemnon dismissed him. Odysseus took the liberty of throwing the man's arm off my shoulder, the King seated in front of us did not see. Then Agamemnon looked to the man. With a wave of his hand, the man fled the tent, the flap waving with the wind that entered. I licked my lips, ready for anything this king could throw on me. Patroclus's lips still ached me. Agamemnon rose, motioning me to come forward. His gray hair mixed with his eyes in a perfect balance of evil and greed.

"I thought you were told to stay behind," he said with a gruff voice. I wished to smile, but my heart was heavy and hurt and full of fatigue, I did not want to meet this man again.

"Actually, if I remember correctly, you told me by all means find Achilles, how I got here was something of my own choosing." Agamemnon's eyes turned to beady slits of resentment. He took a look over his shoulder to his weapons, if not I a woman he truly considered killing me on the spot, letting my body rot in the sun. Instead he clenched his jaw and I saw a vein twitch in his forehead.

"Mark my words, **girl**, I will take pleasure in killing you have you words like that to me more. Your headstrongness is most strenuous." I could not refuse to smile at this, for moments ago I had led Patroclus into breaking rules just as easily as I would, but that was much different that hate. I faked a bow, showing I honored him not at the moment. He still had yet to see what I kept hidden.

"My lord, as you know I am not your servant and by all means kill me, but then I will not be able to give you what you want most," I anticipated. Agamemnon slightly raised a hand to strike me.

"And what is that?" he spat. I smiled cunningly, winning once more in my occupation.

"Why, the key to Achilles," I responded with. Agamemnon seemed to not believe my words, his face lit up like a child's when they learn they have earned something. "You set me free my lord with no more harm done, let me go back to Troy or to Achilles' camp and I will give you his plans." Agamemnon now took back all of his thoughts on killing me. He bowed his head in false reverence.

"Very well," he agreed, seeing the idea very palatable for him indeed.


	8. Before Dawn

**Chapter 7: Before Dawn**

I slinked my way out of the camp, walking quickly over the mile of bare land to the gates of Troy. My eyes swept past the tumbled ruins, anger pulsed through my veins. Anger and sorrow, as I hoped Patroclus would call my name, but I heard him naught. I gathered my new clothes under my arm and pulled the hood of the cloak over my head, my face not visible in the night sky. I crept back to the secret entrance, the man's body was smeared with blood, and flies had begun eating away his cold flesh. I grimaced, his glazed over eyes haunting me for eternity, before slipping back into the small passage through the wall. When I got to the other end I pushed away the rock slightly and peeked out. No one was in sight. I slithered out from the passage and pushed the rock back into its proper fitting. Every sound made my heart skip a beat, quickened my breathing and sent me to shock. When upon seeing no one, I remorselessly continued down the dirty street. Lanterns and lamps lit my way from the windows of homes, my shadow slinking behind me at a crawl. I moved quickly and quietly, taking the quickest route to the palace I could muster. I could see the lights of the main hall light up, with the statues of the Gods blazing with their undying majesty. Quickening my pace, I turned a corner penetratingly. Two guards stood with their backs to me. Startled, I stifled my gasp and reeled back around the stone wall. Hard stone sent sharp needles through my spine, I bit my lip wincing. The men moved slowly, the shuffle of their feet was almost possessive. I edged farther away from the corner till their footsteps ceased and I heard whispers.

"Who are we watching for?" one man asked with a gruff voice, stating he rather be home making love to his wife than standing guard. He threw his spear to the wall and stones crunched beneath his feet as he sat down. The other man began pacing back and forth, tired of the man's brash attitude.

"Prince Hector said we should watch for the spy, Aldreana or something or other…" he trailed off with a yawn.

"Aldreana, I heard that part. That girl is a sly vixen; I'm surprised half the men aren't on her right now," the crotchety man said with pure pleasure. The other man threw his weapon aside, and sat down next to his companion.

"Well that's just the point, apparently she was left behind to watch over the Sparta Queen for Hector and then Paris decided to steal her away on the ship. Aldreana came with Achilles and his band of raiders, or so I heard. Hector said that when he went out this afternoon she was there running to his side, but now she suddenly goes missing? My guess, she probably went back to Achilles, snaring him into a love trap to get what she wants. I never liked that girl, I hardly see why Hector trusts her so," he replied angrily with.

"She seems honest to me, just full of power and eyes that control and restrain a man," the gruff man said in defense. I could already guess who the other man was by his declaration of Aldreana being a slut of a woman.

"Oh! Of course she seems honest old champ. She's a whore of a spy no doubt, getting herself into men's beds."

"Or perhaps she is spying for the King, which is her job in court," the gruff man contradicted with.

"Her job! Her job! Some job, do you know who she killed…" The man was cut off by a bang and crash from the other end of the street. "Who's there?" he shouted.

Immediately feet scrambled to get away, the guards picked up their spears, chasing after the man down the other corner. When I could scarcely hear their sandals scrapping across the course ground, I ran for it. I took a different street and found my way back down the small alley road used by the slaves of the palace. Pale brown stone houses loomed over me, the tops of the roofs thatched or made or stone. Ladders filled the road to climb to the second story roof; I slinked through and under them. The road grew thinner and thinner till only one person could squeeze around the ladders and other baskets and bundles strewn around the ground. Blankets hung from doorways and windows, blowing in the hot breeze that swept through the open air. The air was moist from the sea, tickling my nose with its salty breath. A bat that hung from the ladder's edge opened to its wing span and flew into the sky, its screech unheard. It was silent, so hushed I thought I could hear the snores of the children and women and men done with a full days work. My time with Patroclus made me realize how quickly it really went, when his touch seemed to halt time in my mind. The kiss tingled on my lips and I shook my head to relieve me of many thoughts. The man's words were still buzzing in my head as I turned corner after corner, mastering the labyrinth of streets till my destination came to full view. The back door of the palace loomed in front of me, wooden and bent from old age, but reliable. I looked behind me, down the hill from where the fortress sat on. Troches' light flickered in the dark light, dancing across my face. No one had followed me to the palace. I opened the wooden door and tiptoed in, the hood of my cloak falling down the back of my head.

The hall echoed with my footsteps, doors were on either wall and at the end of the hall a stair case was built, leading to many slaves' quarters, leading to my room close to Briseis'. The hall was empty except for one young girl, who bowed her head as she passed me. I stared quizzically at the girl before scrunching up my skirts in my hands and running up the stone steps, my soft treading steps still managed to echo in the air. I came to a hallway of doors, each a small tight room for one person. I jogged down the hall, wanting to be seen by no one, and then sharply turned the corner, a swarm of hands catching me.

"Whoa, watch where you run down these halls missy." The young man, a few years older than me smiled at me as I turned crimson. The man had shaggy brown hair that curled form the sun and had turned a darker shade of red and content brown eyes. "Oh! Aldreana, didn't know it was you." He pushed himself back and considered me deeply. "Since when do you wear cloaks and foreign clothing…?" he let the question go. "Never mind, Hector told me. He wanted me to watch out for you, he wants to see you right away."

"Who doesn't?" I whispered to myself, but the man heard. His brow crinkled in confusion. "The guards told me the same thing when I returned again-- when I came back from this afternoon," I corrected myself quickly. I tucked the clothes back under my arm from slipping. The boy still watched me closely.

"You alright, you seem kind of skittish, and almost way happier than normal." He scratched the back of his head, as if that would do the trick to finding the difference. My lips were not yet puckered from kissing Patroclus too much. I nodded my head.

"Myles, I'm fine," I replied curtly, and then crawled from under his arm propped out against the wall. He looked back over his shoulder at me; I faked a hopefully convincing smile, then walked the way down the hall and then turned the corner without another backward glance. I ran the rest of the way to the quarters of the new priestess and quickly opened the large wooden door to my room, shutting it loudly behind me. I slammed my back against the wall and breathed a heavy sigh. To be caught by anyone, Myles I'd rather prefer above them all. We had become fast friends when I was first brought to court on my own, almost too fast for Priam, who watched us with cautious eyes. Salves were not allowed to intermingle with love unless given the chance, and I never felt that close to Myles anyways, not like the connection that I bared to other men, including Patroclus. His face pulled me to him, I yearned to be in his arms, it was something I wanted now every second, more than even looking upon my friend's charming face, which used to make my heart skip a beat when I was given the chance to talk to him.

My body soon cooled from the anxiety of the past hours and I backed away from the door, allowing the surroundings and possessions of my room gather themselves into me. In the middle of the room was a small fireplace for cool nights and to one bare wall was a bed made of feathers, with one blanket of blue dyed wool. The wall facing my door was missing and to replace it was a pillar holding up the ceiling and silk sheets that led out to the balcony and substituted a doorway outside. On the opposite side of my bed was a wardrobe, desk holding a fresh water basin and a dresser full of jewelry and combs with a mirror to accompany it. At the foot of my bed was a small chest, which hid all of my prized possessions, one being my brother's dagger. The chest was copper and could only be open by a locket kept in my jewelry chest. Engraved on the chest were markings and symbols of Latin and pictures to go with the short captions of legends and myths. I stared at the chest for some time, then turned away and untied my cloak, throwing it on my bed. I threw my new clothes with it, looking at the mirror. My reflection was starling at first, and then the day's troubles and fatigue swept over me like a flood. My hair was unbound, knotted and full of untidy curls. I grabbed a comb of soft stone, carved into the shape of a blossoming flower and began combing my hair. The comb slipped easily into my palm, the makings of my mother's hands. This was the only thing I had of her; my brother had stolen it from Father when he threatened to throw it away. I could picture my trembling hands try to steady the comb in my grip as I cried over my dead brother and mother and then I swore revenge, and my soul received it gladly. There was a small rap on the door, a quiet girl asking if she could enter.

"You may come in," I said. The girl peeked in the doorway before exposing herself to me in the room. She bowed her head.

"Prince Hector requests your presence with him as soon as possible," she said meekly and weakly. I nodded, sighing greatly as I glanced over at my bed, wishing to throw myself on it. I set down the comb and turned my back to the girl. A gasp escaped her lips. "Aldreana, you're bleeding!" she exclaimed. I looked over my shoulder at her in confusion. The man's sword suddenly pierced my vision as it had done my back. "Who did this to you? Was it Achilles?" she whispered the name, afraid to speak about the enemy. I shook my head. She quickly ran to the water basin, dipping the cloth in it. Ringing it out, she nodded at the bed, wishing me to sit down. I obeyed and allowed her to wash my back of the caked blood. She dabbed at it softly, thought I much preferred Patroclus's gentle touch. "We have all heard your story; all of the slaves have anyway."

"My story?" I acquired with an arched eyebrow. She nodded.

"Of your trip with Achilles and the enemy. How did you do it? Didn't they threaten to kill you? Reports have already been made about a man who entered the city, wishing to recapture you. The guards never did catch him though. He was so clumsy that he tipped over a basket of copper lanterns, all crashing loudly against the stone ground," she remarked on this with pure amusement, while I was able to hide my wide eyes of surprise with my bloody back. _It was Patroclus, it had to be. He wanted to see me go safely though the city. _I smiled, touched by his protection, unlike that of the man running after me to the city's gates early today. I bit my lip again as I thought of something else. _What was he able to hear what the men said?_ Hoping he would ask no questions if I met him again, I let the subject go. The girl quickly finished with my back and began exiting when I stopped her.

"Tell Hector I shall be down momentarily." The girl nodded and slowly closed the door behind as to not bang. I sat still on the bed, washing my face with the spots of cloth not turned red. Then I stood up, throwing the towel back onto the desk and stripping off the dingy clothes from Sparta. I unfolded the green chiton and pulled it over my head. It folded itself beautifully around the curves of my body. I picked through my jewelry, gifts form close friends, and found a gold clasp shaped like the wing of an eagle. Briseis claimed it was the eagle's wing of Zeus. I cared not for the God's blessings, but had nodded my head politely in agreement. I wrapped the yellow silk around my waist and shoulders, clasping it on one side of my chest to the green dress. The colors went together flawlessly, perfecting the blond hue in my hair. I combed the rest of the knots out of my wavy hair, tying it with an extra leather thong lying on the dresser. I looked in the mirror, my face and makeup not perfect, but good enough to say a few good words to Hector. Before leaving, I cupped water in my hands and washed my face, grabbing the end of the hanging sheet in my balcony and wiping my face with it. The dirt that was left behind bothered me not.

I walked lightly down the halls, back down the stairs and down another hallway that led to the main meeting room of King Priam's kingdom. Men were arranged on either side of the pool of water that flowed out the palace, a constant fountain to the God Apollo, who was one of the many statues in the room. I hung back in the shadows, though not quick enough for Hector to miss me. He sat in front of the statue with Priam at his side, Paris on the other of their father. Priam's blue sharp eyes were like a hawk's, while Paris was gazing at each man with frightful, unpleasant and appalling eyes. Hector held his gaze on me for a moment and then blinked dark eyes and looked back to the council. The priests and men were babbling on and on of a granted victory, though I cared not which side won now, I only hope lives would be spared. Lives that I couldn't see pass across the River Styx. Among the priests were couriers and commanders of Hector's army, all listening intently but saying nothing to the prophecies the priests shouted aloud. Suddenly Paris stood up, the whiteness of his knuckles fading back to pale red.

"Tomorrow I shall challenge Menelaus for Helen," he announced. Hector hid his disbelief, while Priam grew wide eyed with the council.

"Paris!" Priam warned, but with a swing of his hand in the air, Paris silenced him. He took a deep breath, buffing out his chest with courage he had not yet embraced.

"The loser will burn before nightfall." I couldn't believe my ears. Paris had never fought in battle, had never killed a man. The only thing he ever massacred was the hay made soldiers that hung on the wall to practice sword and arrow with. I shook my head in incredulity, already picturing Helen's tears, the end of the war. It would end tomorrow with Menelaus waving a bloody sword in the air, Hector screaming inside but able to do nothing. Then Troy would be taken for sure. Patroclus would be able to fight along with the Greeks; Achilles would let him battle if he was assured a true victory. But I would need to get out of the city. Patroclus's temper could be as foul as his cousin's. If I were to be killed by a ragging Greek on the street…I could only picture Patroclus's fury.

I shook my head, it was deemed unnecessary to think of. By nightfall the loser will burn, by dawn I would leave Troy once again. Paris stared into space, assuring himself it was the only choice he had, which it wasn't. But he had screwed himself up by bringing Helen here in the first place. Then he nodded his leave, his blue robe bellowing behind him. Hector clenched his jaw. Priam still couldn't accept as truth the words that just poured from his son's mouth. He acknowledged the end of the meeting with a wave of his hand. I watched each man walk out of the room, Priam sitting in his throne and holding his head in his hands. Hector waited for every man to leave but his father before coming to meet me behind the pillars. His face was grim and grave, making me gulp with fear.

"Aldreana, where have you been?" he asked loudly, loud enough for his father to raise his head in question. Seeing me, he turned away and finally walked from the room. I looked down as Hector waited for an answer. "I watched you go back to the city."

"That doesn't mean I reentered it," I lied. Hector glared at me, making me wish I could take back my words. He rubbed his chin as if deciding on a punishment. "My lord, I stayed behind in the camp for the afternoon because I could find out the secrets of the Greeks--" He stopped me with a hand in the face.

"Absolutely not. My father may find use of you but now that you are safe I want to make sure you stay out of harm's way. You will not spy for me any longer Aldreana. Not now. I do not want you to go back to Agamemnon's camp, it is too dangerous. We already had a Myrmidon, at least that's what the guards say he was, escape the city's gates and we have no idea how he did that." He looked at me out the corner of his eye, inquiring me. I faked the best innocent look I could give. It was Patroclus. "Aldreana, the only way he could have gotten in was by a secret passage. Was anyone following you when you came back?" I shook my head, for truly I was completely unaware of the presence of another till I cornered the men. Patroclus must have followed at a far distance, making sure to watch my every move.

"No my lord, no one followed me home." I cringed inside at the word. Home, this was my home, a place where naive minds turn to ash with war and hatred. Behind all the glamour and beauty of the city was where I sat, observing everything the disguise failed to hide from me. And I learned to cope with it. Hector nodded, drinking it all in. Moments passed, and all I heard was the sound of our breathing and the water churning through the cut trail of stone it was led through. Finally Hector spoke again, clear orders he thought would be alright with me after all my troubles of the past days.

"You are not to leave the city; I want to see you safe and sound." I looked at him for a better excuse than safety. Finally he acceded. "Briseis is missing. I think they stole her away when they attacked the temple. She is as good as dead out there, and you shouldn't live the same fate and torture." His face was full of misery and I as well was taken aback by the words. I stepped back and let it sink in. Agamemnon no doubt probably had her in his bed right now, the greedy pig. "Aldreana, promise me you won't go back there, no matter what my father asks?" He waited for my nod, my eyes averted so he could not see my sudden wretchedness over my actions. I had led Briseis to death, all because of the way my heart fluttered at the sight of a young man. Finally I gave in and nodded to his request. He thanked me with a short murmur, and then took his leave. I spun around to watch him.

"My lord, why are you letting it to be allowed?" I asked. I almost wanted to laugh at what Paris had announced moments before, but seeing his death haunted me. This wasn't the vision I had imagined because of my disdain for the rash prince. This was reality and now it smacked with a hard blow to the face. I didn't want to see people close to my heart and life fall because of one man's, or a woman's, actions, even if the man who died was the one that started it all. With a fallen Prince, Troy could easily fall to the Greeks. My heart was with Patroclus, my mind elsewhere.

"What do you mean?" he asked in reply. I hung my head in false sorrow, though really my heart did knot at the sight of the Princes dead, but perhaps not seeing Patroclus again filled it now, for the city was already swarming in death for me. I wished, I longed to be rid of it. But my promise to Hector stuck, I would have to stay in Troy.

"Paris will surly die my lord, he has never fought a man before," I proved. Hector's eyes blazed with anger at what he thought was the most irrational idea his brother could make. But like Paris, he learned to accept it.

"It is his decision," he answered curtly and left me alone with the sound of his echoing footsteps to guide me back to my room. I stalked back to my room in anger and tears, bumping into no one to my pleasure and gratitude. _You were able to sneak your way in and out once, do it again. Please Aldreana, please. _Patroclus's words whispered to me in the dark hall. I stopped abruptly. A tingling sensation came to my lips. I touched them lightly, the feeling instantly going away. _You will not spy for me any longer Aldreana. _Hector's forbidden request followed soon after. But if I was not under his service, any promise I could make was not truly made proper. I jumped with glee inside. Tomorrow I would leave for the Greeks. If I was no longer a spy, I could go where I please without being looked down upon. Not necessarily secure, but I could still leave. Soft leather sandals suddenly popped around the corner. It was the girl who had earlier washed my back.

"Aldreana, are you in need of something?" she asked. I looked at the handle to my door; it might have been the last time I look upon it. But even Patroclus knew that I might not come back, if I didn't he would know why. He would not sit in his tent in despair and mope, but rather gather his courage back and fight alongside Achilles. That was what I would want him to do. And if I was in his place I would do just that. But even with the Myrmidons, I was guaranteed wellbeing. My side was chosen, though my heart was torn. I would be betraying the kingdom. My body trembled inside with Hector's fury and rage piercing my mind in a shower of malevolent images. But my heart was caught. I looked back up to the girl.

"Yes actually. Get me up before dawn please. And after tonight, I no longer require your services" The girl did not ask further questions, only bowed her head and left. I smiled slightly. First, to find Briseis, before dawn, before nightfall. The wooden handle of the door brushed across my hand again. _Please Aldreana, please._


	9. Not Worth Royalty

**Chapter 8: Not Worth Royalty**

_My stomach lurched from under me; I sank to my knees in a coward's pull, thrusting my legs up to my moist chin and clammy face. I shook violently and felt my stomach roll in me. I heard the death curtly screams in my head, envisioned once more my father's weapon coming down, the spear being thrown and the sicken thud to the ground. Thinking of what mattered most, my spared life, kept me from not vomiting again all over my self. The world spun around underneath me and I felt as if nothing would ever be the same again. Those men were not lying; my father killed them for their insolence. And now I was expected to follow his orders as well. I slammed my head against the wall, sending stars swirling around my head but at least it took me away from the thoughts whirling in my brain._

"_Aldreana!!" My father shouted at the top of his lungs in an anger voice. I quivered with fear, trying desperately to rise to my feet, but my knees would not obey and stayed bent at my chin. "Where are you?!" His voice startled me, taking my breath away in a distressed gasp. I forced my arms to push me to my feet, scrambling best I could to escape the dreadful hallway. Suddenly my father's footsteps rang in the hall and he ran up the stairs, appearing at the foot of the hall. His face, once so gentle and trusting, was masked in anger, hatred and fury. Tears instantly began leaking from my eyes and my voice begged him not to hurt me in a gurgled cry. My father's peremptory glare sent my knees into shakes and I collapsed back down to the ground with a hard thumb. My father's rage lessened as he saw the torture I was in. "Oh my daughter," he whispered in sympathy. I stared at him with watery eyes and stunned confusion. He crept down next to me and swept a hand towards my tear stained cheek. I instantaneously pulled away and he looked hurt at my raw actions. His eyes flickered with anger and he swept his hand back to the hilt of the sword that he had dropped on his way to me. I saw the wet, thick blood pool around the blade. His anger took over the last fragment of pity there a second before. He picked up the sword and pointed it at my neck, the tip barely stabbing my throat. I trembled inside and heard a whimper pass through my lips. Father just sneered at me._

"_Never again will you disobey me is that understood?" he asked. Quickly I nodded my head, thinking of only the worst that could happen. His sneer was the evilest I had ever seen it to be. "I wouldn't want to rupture our little plan, now would I?" I shook my head in agreement, averting my stare. He dragged the tip of the sword all the way up, slowly, to my cheek and rested the cold, hard and moist metal there for pure pleasure of seeing my face cringe. With one last devilish grin he tore the sword off my skin and trailed down the dark hall back to his disheveled room. I waited to hear the door slam before wiping the blood off my cheek in pure disgust._

_

* * *

_I awoke in a cold sweat, the sheet of my bed sprawled against the floor. I sat up, taking deep breaths to control my stomach, which sat empty and alone. I realized I hadn't eaten in hours but cared not about that as I looked to my balcony. The sky was a hazy gray, informing me dawn was just moments away. I climbed out of bed and quickly washed my face with cold water from the basin last night. Wiping it clean with a new rag, I went into my wardrobe and pulled forth the new green chiton and pale yellow garment to wear over it. Throwing my nightgown aside, I dressed in a hurry, finding my belt under the wad of sheets from where I had thrown them off during the night. Then I took a rapid look in the mirror, only to find my hair could be brushed with a comb. The coloring was turning lighter by the second and I hastily caught it up in a leather cord. Curls already withdrew from the band but I cared not as I grabbed my cloak and dagger from where I had left them. I tied the cloak around my neck and slipped the hilt holding my dagger into the belt loop and walked out of my room without a backwards glance. My terrors of never returning to the city again from last night had already faded from existence. I walked briskly down the hall, hoping to meet no one on my way out besides the servant who I had asked to wake me up. I turned around the corner, not hearing a door open and bare feet step out onto the cold stone floor. I was down by the door that led out the city, when a man's voice called from behind me.

"Aldreana?" I spun around, coming face to face with a sudden awakened Myles.

"Myles!" I exclaimed. I felt my eyes grew wide and my palms began sweating with apprehension. Myles rubbed his eyes once more to gather all the alertness he could, yet seemed on edge already seeing me up like this, already half concealed in black fabric.

"Aldreana, what are you doing?" he asked. I faltered for an answer, but came up with the most rational thing, only to have it squashed by another question that escaped his lips. "Are you going back to the camp?" I opened my mouth in incredulity at his guess, and then closed it again. I chewed on my lip before answering.

"Myles I have to," I objected. I turned around to leave, but his hand suddenly snapped out and grabbed my arm, tightly and firmly. His eyes were vigilant now, ready to intervene with my plans.

"No you don't. Hector doesn't want you as his spy anymore," he contradicted. My head snapped back so I looked him straight in the eye.

"Hector also doesn't want servants who evade private conversations they were never meant to hear," I retorted angrily with. Myles was stunned silent by my crude comment and he instantly let me go. I stepped aside and turned back around to leave. My hand was on the door latch when he spoke up once more, once more to try to tangle me back into his life.

"Going back there is only going to get you killed. Anyone who befriended you will now stick a spear through your throat. Appearances can be deceiving," he advised. I spun back around, now annoyed with his pleads and claims to bring me back.

"You just don't want me to have what you don't," I alleged with an angry voice. Myles stopped dead in his tracks, his whole body turned stiff. I cared not what came next and opened the door, banging it shut behind me.

* * *

Patroclus crept out from his tent, sleep just fading away. Eudorus met him on the way to Achilles' tent and together they walked in to await their leader's orders for the battle arriving. But Achilles sat on his bed, strewn out and still eating, nibbling plainly and nonchalantly at his food. Eudorus looked over his shoulder to Patroclus, who shook his head in as much confusion as the other man. Eudorus turned back to Achilles.

"My lord, the army is ready to march out today," he said.

"We stay. We stay until Agamemnon groans to have Achilles back," Achilles said sternly. Eudorus bowed his head and headed out the tent. Patroclus resided, looking down at Achilles for a better explanation than the stolen maiden Agamemnon took last night. Achilles peeked at his cousin out of the corner of his eye.

"You ready to fight, ready to kill?" he asked. Patroclus took a deep breath.

"I am," he responded ingenuously. Achilles grinned with pleasure, then his face turned sour again as he picked up his goblet of wine.

"I taught you to fight but I never taught you why to fight." He sipped his wine, liking the taste, and took big gulps of it. Patroclus rolled his eyes. He was sick of this torture and tried his best to contain his anger.

"I fight for you," he said quickly.

"And who when I'm gone?" Achilles didn't allow the question to be answered as he continued. "Men fight for and die for kings they have never even met." Patroclus's temper flared.

"Soldiers obey," he reacted curtly. Achilles shook his head in disagreement. He took another sip of his wine. Patroclus would give anything to steal the cup and throw it at his cousin.

"Don't waste your life following some fool's orders." He cocked his head and looked at Patroclus sidelong. "Besides, you have another problem waiting for you in that city." Patroclus uncontrollable swept his hand towards the hilt of his sword. Achilles ignored it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Patroclus shouted furiously. Achilles waved his hand in the air.

"Go," he ordered. Patroclus took his hand off his sword and grudgingly came out of his cousin's tent, only to watch the end of another body sweep into his.

* * *

I crept slowly into Patroclus's tent, finding it empty. _Eudorus had led me to an empty tent? _Achilles said I could have confidence in the men, that they wouldn't lead me into danger. But cruel jokes were not what I had in mind either. I walked around the tent, picking at the sparse items: belts and extra clothes, weapons and shields and the bed with a thick blanket rolled at the end. I looked at the swords and shields, picking up the scabbard to one and holding the hilt firmly in my hands. The metal seemed to work perfectly in my fingers, warming up from my body heat and awaiting me to pull it forth and fight with it. I wanted to hear the metal ring as it was pushed against the casing that held it; I wanted to see the metal shining brightly in the light streaming in from the sun. A hand suddenly grabbed and twisted it. The other held a knife and had it pointed at my throat, ready to tear it to pieces. My body stiffened and I drew a quick breath in. I wasn't breathing at all when he started to speak.

"Who are you and what do you want?" The voice said, hardened by anger. He wrapped his arm around me and spun me around. The tip of his knife caught on the edge of my drawn up hood, pulling it off to reveal my face. I breathed again when I saw his face. "Aldreana? I could have killed you." Patroclus instantly dropped the knife and his face turned a deathly pale. His hands came up to my cheeks, he caressed where his knife had been across my neck softly. I inhaled a sigh of relief, welcoming myself into his open arms. I buried my face into his chest, the pleasure of being in his arms again draining everything about Hector and my betraying actions dry.

"I knew you would never kill me," I said into his chest. All he wore was a black tunic where the sleeves cut off at the shoulders, his arms full of muscle exposed to me. He pulled himself away and looked at my face. He was awestruck by my eyes. His anger that had flared moments ago was once more destroyed by my presence.

"No Aldreana, I would never kill you," he said flatly. I smiled at him, feeling the muscles of his arms pulse at the slightest movement he made. He considered me, sighing as he looked me up and down. Then we both could stand it no longer. Our lips met and the kisses we shared were better than before. His tongue was heaven; I never wanted to taste another. Moments went by but we didn't care, Patroclus held me in his arms as we sank to our knees, kissing passionately. It was moments like these that made war believable. We massaged each other's tongues as the kisses grew more zealously and fanatical. I felt my back hit the end of his bed and the blanket was underneath me as he pushed me towards the makeshift cot. Then he let go, his breathing rapid. I sucked in a deep breath, my lips puffy and damp. I licked my lips and could taste him still, before opening my eyes. He gazed down at me with adoration and I found him irresistible. He stroked my hair, just letting the silence and our calming breaths drift us to peace. Then I realized one of the reasons why I came.

"Paris will challenge Menelaus today, now," I said promptly. Patroclus stopped his gazing and averted his eyes.

"I know that, Achilles will not let us fight today. He sits in his tent sulking now while the rest of the Greeks gather for battle. I would give anything to go after them and leave Achilles behind," he whispered.

"Then go!" I announced. Patroclus's head sprang up in surprise. "Leave Achilles, go!" Patroclus shook his head in argument.

"No, I won't leave to face Achilles' wrath," he concluded, but I still retorted back.

"Then I'll leave now," I remarked. Patroclus grabbed my arm.

"You would leave me right after that?" he said slyly. I smile crept to my lips as he drew me closer. "I want you to stay here, with me." His voice became compassionate, making my heart melt. I let him brush away a curl that escaped the cord, and then nodded my head. He smiled and kissed me on the cheek. "I have never-"

"Patroclus, we are-" Eudorus entered and at the sight of me stopped where he was. "Achilles wished me to inform you that we are leaving." Patroclus leapt up to his feet. He picked up a shield and spear. Eudorus's twitch of a muscle in his jaw told Patroclus to set the weapon and defense down. "Achilles has picked a spot where we can watch from afar, the men have just left." He glanced at me with little trust once more before the flaps of the door waved that he was gone. I rose to my feet and looked to Patroclus. His face was full of anger and disappointment. He chucked the spear and shield back to the ground and miserably threw himself on his bed. Thinking of nothing else to do I sat down beside him.

"You don't want to anger him anymore, you should go," I said. Patroclus glanced out of the corner of his eye to me. Accepting the decision as final, I stood up and began lifting the tent flaps. His strong hand reached out like a snake and grabbed me. I spun my head around. Patroclus stood up and walked up beside me.

"Who ever said that you were leaving?" he quirked an eyebrow, making me grin with delight. He lifted the tent flaps; his hand guided my back and leading me outside. I left my cloak where it was around my back, bothering not with the hood. The Myrmidons had already gathered, each took a stare at me then looked away. Most had seen me walk into the camp already this morning. Eudorus glanced at Patroclus, still clenching his jaw as Achilles walked out of his own black fortress. He took one look at me, and then glared at Patroclus. I grabbed his hand, but he didn't falter. Achilles drew his hands to fists, and then unclenched them. He started walking forward, and then spun around on his heel. He pointed his finger at me.

"You are here on your own free will, no one protects you," he said firmly, deliberately.

"Do you think that threat would send me back to the walls? I knew that already," I snapped back with. Patroclus began walking, ignoring my rude comments as to not get himself in trouble. Achilles walked lightly, yet made it to the front of the group and led them to the hills of Troy. Patroclus began walking slower and slower, till I caught up with him again.

"Is he always like that?" I said cutting into the silence. Patroclus winced at my anger, and squinted past the sun to catch a glimpse of the mighty man.

"He feels that he shouldn't follow any king in war. War irritates and agitates most men; they are never truly at peace," Patroclus noted, standing up for his cousin.

"Of course no man finds peace, you are killing. Any man who finds pleasure in that is not worth living," I spontaneously said back. Patroclus seemed confused at my words. I tried to explain my feelings best as possible. "Following orders is different then taking contentment in killing men. I have killed men before because I needed to, I didn't take pleasure in it. I have seen men die in bloodbaths and I hate it. But yet I yearn to hold a sword, I love to fight with one, against opponents." I looked over to Achilles, his black leather armor was the dullest I had ever seen, yet seemed to sparkle in the sunlight with dignity. "Your cousin, he was born to end lives, or so the legends say. But does he love killing?" Patroclus took one look at his cousin, the one who taught him, took care of him. Without any second glance, he shook his head. I drew silent, creeping into my own thoughts and watching the army, the Greeks march into the wide open land between the sea and the walls of Troy. "Perhaps Paris is the smartest one of us all," I suggested sardonically. Patroclus frowned, looking at me with mocking eyes. I shrugged my shoulders. Patroclus chuckled softly. "What?" I asked in a frivolous tone.

"You are the most mysterious person I have ever met," he exclaimed. I felt my cheeks turn crimson and he saw that too. "Not that that's bad, but it's…different. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone like you again. You are the first girl- woman that I have…seen act like this." He hesitated between words, making him lose concentration. I felt ready to bear my heart and soul to him, but in the worst of times. I smiled at him, looking back up the path. We were now mingled with the group of Myrmidons, making our way to the front by Eudorus and Achilles. I craned my head to look over the tall men and gasped at the sight I saw. The ruins, crumbled yet standing, laughed and tormented me. I instantly stopped walking, taking Patroclus by surprise. He stopped next to him, resting a warm arm on mine. "Aldreana, what is it?"

_My father scolded me once again. "Aim for me, think of nothing else but defeating me!"_ I shook my head, trying desperately to get the images out of my head, but to no avail. _"Harder, come at me Aldreana, don't hold back!" My father ordered at me, turning my determination into annoyance and anger._ I wanted to scream at him, stab my sword into him for everything he did after that, but it was the past now. _Wincing, I looked up to see his blade's tip pointed at me. "I've won," he merely said, his face grave._ I refused to let him defeat me again. "Nothing, just a memory," I responded curtly. Patroclus still didn't move.

"Is it of your brother?" he acquired. I shook my head and began walking up the path to the ruins. Achilles glanced over his shoulder, than turned away.

"No, just my father." Patroclus saw the disturbed look on my face and let the subject go. We walked silently the rest of the way to the ruins. My mind grew troubled with such thoughts, memories of my father I never rekindled with till the start of this adventure I had willingly embarked on. It was because of this the realization came to mind. _It is not just because of Patroclus that I am here. I am still running from my past. My past was in Troy, and now here I stand with the enemy. Perhaps here is where I belong in order to fix and live what was stolen from me._ The hard ground made it uneasy to walk on. I inelegantly fell over half buried rocks, Patroclus catching me from bruises and cuts. Each time I knew I was dazed, so overcome with thoughts and voices that I barely noticed the man who caught me from my falls. The ruins had knocked down pillars and caved in walls, with stone flooring. Distinctively, I swore I found blood stains on the stone floor as I walked upon it to go down to the small curve in the land, where the last of a few pillars and wall remained. It was spattered spots, as if who ever died was brutally murdered. A line of drops seemed to follow after the large spots, chasing after it in an endless race. I blinked, taking an inch look back to the stone, the stains were gone. I rubbed my head, the sun getting to my eyes. When we arrived at the center of the ruins, which to me looked like an old run down temple, the Myrmidons sat in a group, Achilles behind them on the mount of flooring and balcony still left in the ground. We waited mutely. Patroclus stood next to Eudorus and I squatted down on the ground in front of the men, the soon to be battle field filling my entire vision.

We waited noiselessly, the wind ringing in our ears. Everyone seemed restless, even Achilles, to jump into battle and fight along side the men. Most of all was Patroclus, who I eyed watchfully out of the corner of my eye when my head was turned. His hand was on his sword hilt, the knuckles growing white with frustration. I clenched my jaw, wanting to toss him my own dagger and yell for him to scram down the hill. But soldiers obeyed, and Patroclus was considered of the highest honor in the group to be trained by Achilles himself. He of all of the men would be the biggest block head to disobey the orders. I held my anger and turned back to the fields. In the distance, I began to hear the drumming, the drumming of feet. My body grew tenser as I edged closer and closer to the end of the hill, the Myrmidons all but winking out of existence to me. I took in quick, exaggerated breaths till I held it. My heart thumbed loudly, so loud I swore others heard. Their feet crunched on the ground, kicking up a small trail of dust that swirled around me.

The gates to Troy suddenly sung open. Leading the heavily armed troops were Hector and Paris. Hector hated this as much as any other man, but held a dignified look as he rode forward. Paris I could tell was trembling inside, but his face belied his true feelings as he rode next to his brother. The men, so many men, followed after their princes. All bared shields and held spears, their swords still tucked into their belts. Hector lead them just outside the wall, and arrayed them in straight lines. I instantly noticed his first tactic from days of proper training. _The Greeks will never beat them; they will march too close to the wall. _I was swimming in thoughts when a gentle tap flooded my nerves. I jumped, spinning my head around. Patroclus kneeled down next to me. He wrapped an arm around me, sending goose bumps all over my body. Patroclus noticed.

"Relax Aldreana. This hasn't been the first war you've seen," he accredited. I nodded, agreeing with him.

"But have you ever seen a war where you fought for both of sides of it, in between it?" I retorted back anxiously. Patroclus drew back, his hand slipping off my back till finally he heaved a sigh as he stood up and walked back to Eudorus. I felt warmed by his company, but not chilled without it. Such things as these were best experienced alone.

The Trojans had fully ensemble themselves when another drumming caught my hearing. I turned my head right and instantly they grew wide. My palms became sweaty and I could feel the apprehension rise in the men behind me. They were like a wave, a tidal wave that took everything, destroyed everything in its path. The Greeks marched up the few miles and I could almost picture Paris' mystified face. I could see his jaw drop. Hector would turn his head to his brother, claiming this as his last chance to turn around and go back. The Greeks marched closer and closer, till only a small area was separating the great armies. I blinked in amazement; the two opposing forces took my breath away. My feet crunched the sand underneath me as I stepped even closer to the hill's end, till I could literally sprint my way down. Feet scrambled behind me and Patroclus roughly grabbed my arm.

"We don't want to be seen, especially you," he hissed. I protested, trying to break from his grip, but his strength held me firmly. He stood up and hulled me to my feet, bringing me back to the group. I refused to kneel now, standing beside Patroclus. His arm twined it self around my waist from underneath my cloak, unseen by Achilles.

The chariots of Agamemnon and his leaders, including Menelaus, rode out into the open. Hector and Paris kicked their horses into a slight tort and rode out to them. I could already imagine the words. Patroclus wrapped his arm tightly around me, sending shivers down my spine. I blinked, closing my eyes and embracing the moment. If there was one thing to learn from my brother, it was to seize the moments when they come for they will never happen again. Hector and Paris climbed off their horses and walked out to where Agamemnon stood with Menelaus, Odysseus and two other men I didn't recognize, but took the larger of the two to be the famous Ajax I had heard of in camp. Hector spoke humbly, I could tell of the posture he threw himself into. Paris on the other hand was shaking all over and when all heads turned to him I knew he had proposed his idea. I could vaguely see the smile appearing on Agamemnon's face, but my face still sprouted in disgust anyways. Patroclus leaned into me, the wind gathering up my hair and hiding his face from Achilles.

"Go back, you shouldn't see this," he whispered. My look that was glued to the armies told Patroclus I was not about ready to high tail it out of here and he sighed in disappointment. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and he still stared at me. His eyes made me melt where I was, so much I wanted to fall and have him catch me just for the sake of the moment. I cared not when Paris and Hector walked briskly back to their horses, Paris putting on a helmet and bearing his father's sword. I watched not when Menelaus and Paris started to meet each other. All there was in my mind was Patroclus. My hood that gathered up behind me concealed everyone from the kiss me and Patroclus shared. Menelaus swung his sword back and forth in the air, catching wind and smiling with pleasure of finally killing the man who stole his wife. Paris took his own pace, the pace full of fear.

The hard thump of Menelaus' shield pulled us apart. I had to catch my breath, fully aware of Achilles eyes on my back, a body of fury pacing back and forth. Menelaus instantly began slicing away the air; Paris unskillfully deflected all of the elder's death defining blows. Paris, instead of moving forward with his own swings, kept edging back, giving Menelaus the bigger advantage. Soon Paris was crouching on the ground, Menelaus whacking his shield and tearing it to shreds. Finally, Paris grew so low that Menelaus kicked his shield, taking the Prince off guard. His shield, the only protection flew from his hands and his helmet fell off his head. Hector's lips moved, I knew he was saying words to get Paris back on his feet. Agamemnon's chest bounced up and down in a chuckle. Paris quickly grabbed his shield and began fighting back, but his blows were useless to the ones Menelaus was wailing on him. Menelaus caught Paris' sword with his own and swung him so their backs touched, then twirled around skillfully. Paris sung again, this time Menelaus threw out his fist, hitting the Prince squarely in the jaw. Blood spilled down Paris' chin and franticly he threw his body weight into his shield, bashing into Menelaus.

But Menelaus quickly grabbed the shield and pulled it back and forth harshly till Paris was thrown off it. Then he tossed the shield aside, sending laughter into the air from Agamemnon. The King pointed at his brother's obvious victory, taking great joy and amusement in watching this. Paris lifted up his arm, but Menelaus just grabbed it and twisted it. Paris yelled out in pain and then thrust his own fist the other's jaw. Menelaus let go off Paris' arm and spit out the bloody tooth that Paris and knocked out of his mouth. Then their swords clashed, again and again till Menelaus swung and found flesh. Blood spilled form the gash in Paris' leg and he shirked in agony and fell to the ground. Menelaus sneered as Paris tried to get back up and fight, but suddenly Menelaus struck the Prince's wrist, sending the sword flying out of Paris' hands. He fell to the ground, and Menelaus walked up and held the tip of his sword to Paris' neck. But when he lifted it, Paris suddenly found the adrenaline to crawl back to Hector, whimpering in fear as he clung to his brother's leg in fright.

"No, the fool," I whispered in disbelief. I bowed my head so Patroclus did not see the tears of shame that sprung to my eyes as the pride of the Troy fell into a nose dive. "The coward."

Menelaus threw up his hands in skepticism. "Is this what you left me for?" he screamed to Helen, knowing she was watching from the walls. I felt an ache of wretched sympathy for the girl, the naïve girl who thought not of her consequences as she led Paris naked to her bed. He walked up to Hector, who was in just as much pain as his brother and Helen. "Fight me, you coward fight me!" Menelaus screamed to Paris. He stared up with angry beady eyes at Hector. "This is not worth royalty. He must fight me or Troy is doomed." Agamemnon pulled out his sword.

"The Trojans have violated the agreement, prepare for battle!" he commanded. Instantly every Greek lifted their weapons. Menelaus still cursed at Hector and Paris, who still clung to his brother's leg. He ranted that the fight was not over, but Hector disagreed with a shake of his head. Menelaus hefted his word and ran to chop up Paris. Suddenly Hector pulled forth his sword, and shoved it into Menelaus' gut. The man dropped his sword, gasping violently, blood pouring out of his body. When Hector pulled out his word from the King's flesh, the man was already dead and toppled to the ground in a bloody heap.


	10. A Haunting Past

**Chapter 9: A Haunting Past**

I gasped out loud, the men all joining in with Patroclus and looking at me with bemused faces. Once again I tear myself from the group, sitting on the edge of the bank, kneeling down as tears came to my eyes. _Hector, oh Hector why?_ My mind screamed. The two pieces that had sewed me together, Patroclus and Hector came crashing together with the armies that ran for each other. I held up my head and watched. The armies came to one another in a violent heap of weapons clashing, blood spraying and bodies falling on top of one another. My stomach flinched with each desperate cry of pain and agony, my hand on the dagger of my demised brother. I couldn't tear my eyes off the battle, catching Paris' glinting armor as Hector makes him leave back into the safety of the towering walls of Troy. My eyes gripped painfully all the deaths and dying, my heart retching in contempt. Patroclus called my name, it was delayed, a whisper in my ears. As the battle raged on, so did the memories…

* * *

_The whip lashed out, catching the flesh of my back and tearing it to pieces. I screamed in pain and watched my father's smile grow. The man holding the damned item smiled with glee knowing he was pleasing his master. I knew the agonizing cries I gave and the blood that spilled down my back haunted him forever. The thrashes continued till I was sliding down the pole I was tied to, the ropes biting at my wrists. I was clutching my lips with all the might I could muster with my teeth, the scream still escaping. Twenty-two, twenty-three…_

_My father stepped closer, holding out his hand. The man stopped, holding the whip with sweaty fingers and catching his breath. Father sneered at me as he bent down to look me in the eye. His mouth stank of old food, his tongue licking his lips that were already crimson from being bit on so hard. I hoped that he bit it in remorse, but my hope was short lived._

"_Now, Aldreana, tell me what you will do?" He waited for my answer, the short gasps making my lungs tighten, begging for air but I could give them none. I looked up between strands of sweaty soaked hair. I gathered up the blood from biting on my lip and all the spit I could gather. I blinked in anger at the man I had been made from and spat at his feet. I grimaced in disappointment when I watched it miss him by an inch. My father stood up and laughed at me. "Wrong answer," he said, nodding to the man. The man chuckled and lifted up the thick black leather of the whip and swung it up in the air, bringing it back down on my skin. Twenty- four, twenty-five. I counted them all, gripping the shaft of wood I hung to with knuckle-white fingers. Every other one I gasped in pain, and then took a deep breath before crying out again. Father stared at me deeply, showing a hint of false sorrow for me._

"_You should have listened. I warned you of the punishment you would receive Aldreana, but you refused to listen. Your brother was filled with the same weakness as your mother; I had hoped you would be more like me. But it seems I have been mistaken, once again." Thirty-two, thirty-three. He lifted his hand again. The man stopped, lost balance and ran into my line of vision. His face was etched with pain. The second my father looked at the man's grimace he quickly changed it to a squint from the heat of the sun. The sun boiled my blood, threatening to burn my skin to nasty crisps. It was as if the sun had even given in to my father's wrath. His face was in front of mine again, facing me with dark eyes full of hatred. He mumbled the question again, but all I heard was an explanation that stopped short. My vision became foggy. I barely saw his sneer aimed at me._

"_Aldreana…" His voice almost saddened, almost became full of fright as I opened my mouth and croaked an answer._

"_Why?" I asked. My father wrinkled his nose at me, as if I was a rotting animal lying helpless and dead in front of him. He stood up._

"_What?" he snarled in a quaking voice of anger._

"_Why did you kill them, why do you want me to do this?" I asked the words quickly as I ran out of breath, my hyperventilating lungs burning for oxygen. My body shook violently as I stared into the wrath of Hades, my father becoming the immortal God of the Underworld. Again he chuckled, though I swore I saw a sign of the man who loved me once. Then it was gone in his clinking teeth as he laughed._

"_By the Gods Aldreana why do you think?" he raised his arm in a flash and a blur of flesh and cloth. Thirty-four, thirty-five. "I came to Troy for your mother, I lusted her that day I saw her in Greece, cradling the babe of Hector in her arms, taking him to the Queen. She was young. I was young and a stupid stable boy. I dreamed of more and watched her flaunt herself to the king, bowing in front of him and announcing the birth of his son. I had to have her. That winter they stayed in Greece, for the safety of the babe that she cradled as the Queen took over her royal duties once more. I walked up to her, met her and fell in love with her. I asked to marry her, she accepted. Her father, the Trojan pig of a father, did not. He laughed at my profession, a stable boy. He was part of court. But I planned it out and soon the father passed away, leaving everything to me, including the role in court. While she wept bitterly, the love of my life, I was rising in power, unaware of her pitiful father."_

_Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty. He stopped the man again and the ropes that bound me gave way, the grazing of my arms against the wood tearing apart the frayed cord. I landed face first to the ground, the sand sweeping into my mouth with each gasp. I lifted up my head, and tried to lift my aching body back up. His foot stomped against my back, the heel of his sandal cracking it. I screamed and fell back down, wishing someone could hear my call. But the hilltop was too far from the city, the ancient ruins looking at me with no eyes, the souls of those that trotted along the stone laughing at me, mocking me._

"_You killed him!" I choked for breath. He grabbed my bloody dark blond hair and pulled me up, the strain on my head leaving my mind swirling. His face was in front of mine. All I saw was his eyes pointing at me with hatred ineffable._

"_Yes Aldreana, I did. I wanted power. I was in court. All I needed next was to rise. And soon I did. I became one of the right-hand men to Priam. And then I had a son and knew what I could do with him. I could ascend the throne with him. But he was pitiful, weak and became a member of Hector's army. And your mother, your mother gave birth to you and thought my idea and illusion of her becoming Queen a crazy notion. Your brother refused me just as she did, so I disposed myself of them, carrying you in my arms, carrying you into my plan. The years I spent in Troy have been years where I am mocked, treated like the stable boy I once was. But now I shall have my revenge. I shall take what was rightfully mine, what has always been mine, a place on the throne."_

_He leered into my face with a breath of death. I choked, sucking in my breath till I could no longer smell him on me. "And now, through all my revenge all I have left is you Aldreana. So, what are you doing for me again?" He moved in deeper, leaning forward to here my pained whisper of an answer. I slowly drifted back and forth between darkness and his face and heard him snarl in fury. My body was lifted in the air and slammed against the hard stonewall that remained of the ruins. My head swirled with the stars and I felt a sharp breath escape my lungs. I sucked in, but my lungs remained swollen. I couldn't breath. I begged for air, but Father kept pushing harder against my chest. A crack rose in my ears and suddenly my arm went numb. "Answer me!"_

"_I'm killing the Princes…" The weight grew lighter and I saw his smile appear. "… So you can…" The weight was taken off, his hand holding my numb arm and back still against the wall. "… Be given all the power in the world. The city of Troy…" He let go of me and I tumbled to the ground. "…Will be yours…" The world blacked out and I heard his shrill, devilish laugh in my head, haunting me for eternity._

_

* * *

_"Aldreana!" Patroclus's voice mixed with my father's laugh. I opened my eyes, his blue ones staring at me wide and full of fright. "Aldreana!" He shook my arms again. I felt a stinging sensation cling to my back, the scars of forty lashes recurring within me. My head became stiff again as I looked up into his eyes. Tears ran down my cheeks, I blinked away the memory. Patroclus kneeled next to me, my gaping mouth challenging his concern. I felt eyes all around me, realizing the Myrmidons, Achilles looking over his shoulder at me, were all staring at me. Eudorus considered me up and down, matching his alarm with Patroclus's, though not showing feelings as deeply. I noticed the ruins standing with Achilles. I had been pulled back into the depths of sand and hills. Patroclus tightened his grip, making me tune back into the world.

"Oh Patroclus," I gasped and fell into his arms with tears and sobs. His body stiffened, I knew somehow that he looked behind towards the men, who all limbered off, then came back to me.

"Shhhh…Aldreana, it's alright. It's over now, don't worry." He ran his fingers through my hair, stroking it carefully. Confused, I looked up to his face.

"What do you mean?" I instantly noted that the sounds of clashing weapons, dying men struck my ears no longer. "The battle?" Patroclus smiled slightly and shook his head. He kissed my forehead, cradling my shoulders with his strong arms.

"No, the memories that haunt you. They're just dreams, they can't harm you, not while I'm here. I promise." He stepped up to his feet and dragged me along with him. My knees clinked together and my feet wobbled. I sank back down, my body dead weight. The echoes of my cries made me wince. I looked up to find Achilles walking briskly through his men to Patroclus and me. The wall that he leaned on was now filled with an image of my father holding me, my broken arm hanging limply at my side. He frowned at me, clenching his teeth.

"You talk to that so called prince of yours," he snarled. I glared at him, but Achilles was barely finished talking. "The Greeks were forced to retreat," he informed me, the men averting their stares from their leader. "We head back to camp." He immediately started walking back the way we had come. But I had my own angry retort.

"The battle has nothing to do with Paris. The Greeks underestimated the Trojans, which is their own fault and mistake. Maybe if they weren't led by such a king, the outcome would have been better." Somewhere inside Achilles he was fumbling with anger but at the comment of Agamemnon, he smiled at me, yet his eyes remained grim. He walked on and the men followed, lastly Eudorus who motioned for Patroclus to hurry.

"Why do you hate such a man, he is a wise leader," Patroclus said as he helped me stand.

"If he was so wise he wouldn't have his men move in so close to the wall. That was the first mistake I noticed when they arrived," I mumbled under my breath, my knees still contradicting what I willed them to do. I lost balance again, falling back into the sand. Tears till drizzled down my cheeks as strong arms wrapped around me and lifted me up in the air. This time I did not flinch; I did not look into the eyes of a torturer, but rather a lover. Patroclus began carrying me back to the camp. I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in his warm chest. I felt his muscles go to work, tightening with each step.

"That's what Achilles said when the Trojans began winning. I believe I saw Odysseus whisper the same claim." My heart lifted hearing the great king of Ithaca still alive. Patroclus walked over the crest of the hill and my breath was caught in my throat. Men littered the once green field, the stained sand leaving a spotted pattern in the ground. Carts were driven over to the bodies, the survivors carelessly throwing the bodies one on top of the other. The faces were grim. The dead were limb and caught in a glazed look of fear and amazement before the deathly blow hit them. Trojans mingled with Greeks, their bodies too tired to care that they merged with enemies. They picked through the bodies, leaving what was not theirs behind.

"This is what you dream of?" I looked up to Patroclus. His face matched that of the men down below the rise of the grassy hill beneath sand. He shook his head to be gone of a lock of hair, but it drifted back into his face. I pulled it away, tucking it behind his ear and waited for his answer.

"A soldier grows accustomed to death. I was cursed to witness it when I was young. I have seen fields like this, I will refuse to intermingle in them," he answered plainly and looked down at me. I averted my eyes, my body cringing from his words. I suddenly wished I could walk again and run from him, but my knees were like liquid folding over his arms. Patroclus continued on, the edge of the camp coming to view.

"When we come to the camp but me down, I will walk." Patroclus nodded, his face unreadable as he wondered through the death field with his eyes.

"What did you imagine? Down on the hill you began sobbing, looked behind you and then started running. I caught up with you, you were so close to the battle, but no one cared to notice, they were to wrapped up with Hector and Ajax, who fought only a few yards away. You began crying louder and Hector looked over to you. I cannot imagine the pain that shattered through his heart as he watched me wrap my arms around you, carrying you back up the hill. The slash on your back reopened, I wrapped it back up when you fainted."

"I fainted?" I asked, not remembering even drifting down into the memory, it just happened. Patroclus nodded.

"Yes, you fainted when I carried you back. You kept slipping in and out till I could stand it no longer and woke you. Do you always have visions like this?" Patroclus stopped and slowly landed me down on to the ground. I fumbled, but he caught me and waiting for me to gain balance. I sighed and pulled the hood over my head, concealing my watery eyes from him. We began walking together back into the camp. The faces here were like at the field, desolate and blank. They barely seemed to care that a Myrmidon and a hooded woman were walking into the camp; all thinking Achilles men had stayed behind. They didn't ask, didn't say a word but their eyes seeped into me, making me shiver. My only hope was that the Agamemnon was the same, that my presence would go unknown. We walked past Odysseus, who managed to quirk a smile when I showed my face. He sent a quick wink at Patroclus, who turned away crimson. As we entered the black tents of the Myrmidons I felt a sense of safety wash over me and took off the hood once we walked in deeper.

Eudorus looked up from sharpening his sword at my arrival and quirked a small smile. At the same instant Achilles walked out from his tent. His scowl wiped Eudorus's smile away. The man dropped his sword while standing and quickly bowed, losing all interest in his weapon.

"My lord…" he acknowledged. Achilles nodded and Eudorus rose back up. The mighty Achilles laid a friendly hand on Eudorus's shoulder. He smiled cunningly.

"Put the sword away Eudorus. Do not pick it up until I say so." Eudorus avoided his eyes, but answered to his lord's wishes. "I have been asked to see Agamemnon." He looked up to find me staring at him with bright green eyes. "See to it that she leaves before nightfall. I don't want an upset king to ruin my camp." Again Eudorus nodded and went to sheath his sword as Achilles walked up to me. Patroclus stopped him from stepping up to me, but I pushed his protective arm aside and held my head high.

"Do you hate me because I have deceived you?" I asked. Achilles held a stern face, making Eudorus and Patroclus pass a warning look. Achilles rubbed his chiseled chin, looking at me up and down.

"No, _my_ lady. I don't want to be known for protecting Trojan blood on the site of the war against them." Achilles cocked his head to the side in a false bow, then turned and walked away. Patroclus saw to it that he met his cousin's stare and the look between them sent my stomach into flip-flops.

"Is that so my lord?" I took a step around Patroclus, curving my hip around his. Achilles stopped, but didn't turn around to face me. "Or are you afraid of what will happen when the memories of killing more men haunts you and I happen to stand right in the center?" Achilles lifted an eyebrow, it could be told by the posture in his head. His chest rose then fell, and then the dust rolled where he trod.

Patroclus eased me to his tent, lifting the flap and allowing me to enter, his arm curling around my waist. I walked into the stock of unused weapons and shields and the bodies from the field swam back into my mind's eye. I bit hard on my tongue, clenching my jaw till it hurt. Patroclus followed my stare. He was able to imagine the blood as well.

"Do all men dream of such things?" I asked. He shrugged his shoulders, now wishing to replace the subject with something else.

"Most, I guess. But some are lucky to dream about other things." His hip grazed mine like I had before and a shiver made me stubble before sitting down next to him on the cot. "So, what did you see?" I took a deep breath, deciding not to hide a horrible past anymore.

"My father taught me sword on those ruins and hills. He also punished me. One day he took me up there and whipped me." I answered bluntly, knowing Patroclus would help me gain detail.

"He…he what?" Patroclus faltered for words, his mouth hanging in anger and disbelief. I shuffled closer and he wrapped an arm around me, making sure to not hit my back.

"Forty lashes, for violating him, for not obeying what he asked of me." By habit my hands went to my shoulder blades and at the thought they ached with having forty stinging lashes struck against them. Patroclus eyed my back strangely, and then turned to listen intently to my story. "And during that he laughed at me, breaking the cycle to ask again what I was to do. But I refused and asked why, why punish me? Why did he ask me to do such things, why does he kill the ones I loved most?" I grew silent, trying to ease the pain by telling but it caused it only to hurt more, yet relief hung with each breath I took.

"He wanted power, he wanted Troy to bow at his feet. He wanted me to help him rise and I refused. I was trained sword only to kill, when the idea of sport was all that hung in my head when I carried that weapon. You men, you love it when the metal rings in your hands, the warmness of it. I cannot believe you take pride in killing, but I too wield a sword, I feel the power build inside me, the wrath that pools in me. I just do not see the pleasure of blood spilling at my heels." I tried to control my anger, but succeeded only in punching out the mangy pillow I had grabbed form Patroclus's bed. I threw the pillow aside. "Why do you and Achilles seem concern about what I see?" Patroclus arched an eyebrow.

"Are you saying that it's normal to see things that others don't?" I shifted uncomfortably, wishing to not reveal that this has happened to me my whole life. "Only one other woman has the power of visions." My breath hung on his every word. "Thetis. Some say she is a Goddess of the sea, that her visions reveal the future." His fingers brush my cheek. "Are you she Aldreana?" he whispers playfully.

Patroclus dropped his hand from my face and wrapped his arm further up my back, his fingers tingling my scars till I could no longer stand it. I stood up and unclipped one end of the dress at my shoulders. The strips of fabric that served as a sleeve on my chiton rolled down my side. I turned my back to Patroclus, his eyes are bulging at the sight of the white scars striping and crisscrossing my back. Now there is one more to match it. He retraced his fingers along the thick lines, the skin still smooth but transformed with torture. The line of his fingers thinned as I feel his hand began on another, coming down to the end of my hips. He starts another that travels back up to my shoulder and with it he grabs me and slowly spins me around. He eyes me with sorrow, compassion and a lust that I loved.

"Aldreana…" he whispered. It was then that I noticed the lust in his eyes as I saw in his mind my exposed breast, the yellow sash tied over the green chiton just missing it. His hand is still on my shoulder and I slowly will it to trail down. His other hand weaves itself in my hair and then his lips are on mine. I close my eyes, sweeping back into the bliss that takes my memories away. His hand slowly winds its way down my chest till it is cupped around my breast. I moan softly, his touch perfect. He kisses me eagerly, our bodies mingling as we fall back to the bed, the pillow I had clouted lying disappointed on the pillow. He turns me around and holds me in his arms as I look up to him.

"Who are you?" he whispers quickly, a spell tracing along the corners of his eyes. I push his hand back down my waist, the other holding my head.

The passing minutes do not exist and the battle I witnessed before seems to be only a nightmare his kiss awakens me from. Our kisses become slower and slower till he stops and rolls over and lies down next to me, his thick arms pulling me into a confronting embrace. He pulls the fabric back over my shoulder, pinning it back. His eyes show thanks, his face a look of apology and happiness. He sits up and I climb into his embrace.

"Aldreana?"

"Hmmm." I crawl closer into his chest, his biceps pulsing as he wraps me tightly.

"What did your father want you to-"

"Patroclus!" Eudorus clabbers threw another flab hidden beneath shields, a back entrance to the young man's tent. Patroclus quickly lets me go and spins up to his feet, I sitting up more slowly, though not at all the more relaxed, but instead tense.

"What is it?" Patroclus asks. Eudorus throws another shield carelessly back from where he kicked it, listens for a sound on the other side of the flap and then rushes to us.

"Agamemnon has sent his men, they are coming for you Aldreana!"


	11. Only One Life

** Chapter 10: Only One Life  
**

"What is it?" Patroclus asks. Eudorus throws another shield carelessly back from where he kicked it, listens for a sound on the other side of the flap and then rushes to us.

"Agamemnon has sent his men; they are coming for you Aldreana!" I stand rooted to the ground in stunned silence.

"What!" Patroclus manages to say for me. Eudorus shushes Patroclus and leans further into the tent.

"He comes for you, the Trojan spy. If-"

"I can't stay here! I won't!" I scream in protest. Eudorus motions for quiet and Patroclus covers my mouth. His eyes seem to calm me down and I swallow back the screams in my throat. His eyes, his blue eyes stay stuck to me. I feel the love, expressed solely through his eyes. His fingers move away from my lips. I blink as I realize Eudorus's stare. We all remain silent till a call rings through the camp.

"Where is the Trojan spy?" a shout echoes in all our ears. Patroclus shoves me into Eudorus, who grabs my hand and pulls me to the hidden doorway.

"You take her Eudorus, makes sure she gets to the wall, alright?" Eudorus contemplated whether he should follow orders or not. Patroclus's blazing eyes of fury tells the other Myrmidon to listen. "I can't go with her; they know we've been together. I have to stay, stop them." Patroclus was already grabbing shields to replace where we were standing now, Eudorus halfway out the tent. I hesitated and spun around. His lips grasped mine, and then he thrust me forward. "Go, I will see you again. I swear." His promise coaxed me into sprinting out the tent with Eudorus. We ducked then outside, the night air sending shivers down my spine. The lowering sun sets shadows curling around the wall. I count five men sent by Agamemnon.

We scrabble past the maze of tents, ducking each time and crouched low. I snuck a peek over my shoulder. The shields he had replaced swallowed the light from Patroclus's tent. I craned my head to look to the entrance and stifled a cry as the two guards standing watch glanced over. I pushed Eudorus forward and fell into the sand, looking up only once to notice Eudorus beckoning me to get up. The stars twinkled over us and the darkness consumed our slinking shadows in between tents. We quickly drag ourselves over the hill; I see the candles of the temple casting little dances of fire over the headless Apollo statue.

"Work of Achilles," I grunt as I catch up with Eudorus. We look behind us, the camp now small but still recognizable. Patroclus's tent is still light, I caught only a blur of bodies standing and consulting.

* * *

Patroclus felt his heart clench the minute her gown was swept out of the tent, yet immediately began piling the shields back where they belonged. He never imagined having to use this doorway, now he was glad it existed. He was picking the pillow back up that Aldreana had thrown aside when three men walked in, two hanging outside.

"You!" the main leader acknowledged with an ungraceful point of his finger. He had a strong built body with a little extra bulk and Patroclus knew the day had come back to haunt him, when dawn wouldn't be much better. The man reeked of brewery hidden away in his own tent deeper in the Greeks. "Where did you hide the bitch Trojan?"

Patroclus winced at the ungrateful name given to Aldreana, his hand traveling down to his sword, as he remained casual. If she was a bitch, so be it.

"I don't know where she is. She stalked her way into the camp and then left. I barely was able to get a good look at her," Patroclus lied. He just hoped he could keep the men waiting long enough. Playing it safe, he unbuckled his sword and threw it carelessly to the ground, where it bounced off the wall and collapsed to the ground. "Why? Did you really imagine that a whore like that would come to me?" The man who had spoken aloud sidestepped uneasily. "What does the King want with her?"

The man frowned at Patroclus. "That's none of your business boy." Patroclus was aching to have his sword and show the men who they were truly facing. But his face belied his feelings as he cocked his head to the side and shrugged his shoulder.

"Well, I suppose you could search the tent, but there is really nothing to look for here is there?" The men agreed with a quick circle around the tent, the pile of shields and empty weapons hiding a fateful secret. The man stepped up to Patroclus, who was amazed their eyes met.

"You see the bitch, you bring her to me. Drop the attitude boy; it will only get you into trouble." Patroclus wrinkled his nose at the man who was already so wasted his words slurred. He faked a smile.

"I'll think on that," he replied. The man lifted his hand, which grew to a fist, then lowered it. He smirked at Patroclus before exiting from where he came. The men all sneered at Patroclus as they followed. The young man made it clear his attitude by throwing at them his own contempt stare. He wished he could suddenly take back all the harsh words he had said to Aldreana. Never had he imagined becoming a soldier like them. When the men's footsteps could not be heard did Patroclus let out a distressed sigh and plopped himself down on the bed. He threw his back against it and closed his eyes.

Only to have them snap open as Achilles entered. His cousin was flaring with anger, yet was fumbling for words. He paced the tent back and forth. Patroclus knew something else was on his mind. Achilles' face was wrinkled in contemplation and finally Patroclus grew sick of watching his sandals move in and out of his vision.

"What?" he demanded to know. Achilles stopped in his tracks, literally. Patroclus noticed a long deep line dug into the dirt by his cousin. Achilles' flailing hand motioned for the men that just left.

"They have to check tents now!" he bellowed. Patroclus winced as Achilles' voice rang in his ears, and then nodded as he went to pick up his sword.

"She must have made quite an impression on Agamemnon," Patroclus said, his tone dripping with the same scorn he gave the men. Achilles continued to pace again. Patroclus frowned at his cousin. "What are you hiding?" he asked. Achilles stopped again and opened his mouth, baring his teeth, then shut it quickly with a harsh snap. Patroclus lowered himself back on his bed and like wise Achilles smoothed his motions and finally stood still, his hands on his hips.

"Maybe Agamemnon is trying to take back what he can't have." Achilles put out. Patroclus lifted an eyebrow in confusion, making Achilles start up again. "You know of the girl form the temple, the priestess?" Patroclus dug into his mind, past Aldreana and finally came to a dark haired woman Eudorus dragged into Achilles tent when the beach was captured. Finally, he nodded. "She was taken by Agamemnon and he put her life on the line to get to me. But I couldn't kill her. Now he has given her back in hopes I will rejoin with the Greeks." Patroclus's heart bubbled with excitement. He raised his eyebrows to wait for Achilles answer.

"And…" he whispered, anticipating the best. Achilles glowered then stood up.

"We stay," he answered curtly. "But there is no fighting tomorrow." Patroclus dropped his jaw and stood up, rounding up to his cousin.

"What! So we still can't fight! We sit here while you play with your new found toy!" Patroclus whimpered in anger. Achilles cocked his head to the side, his smile eating away at the other young man's insides.

"It's seems you're pretty cozy with Aldreana anyways. Don't stress yourself over one lost battle." Achilles began strutting out of the tent, but Patroclus wheeled him back around.

"You asked me to not to follow some fool's orders, well I think I am." Patroclus's voice was a tone not to be challenged with. Achilles had the guts to do so. He grabbed Patroclus's shoulders and pulled him up to his face.

"You think having the pride of killing men will reward you? Then be my guest to leave to Agamemnon. Will I protect you no longer?" He shoved the Patroclus aside. Patroclus's arms thrashed up in the air wildly as he stumbled over his feet and fell down to the ground. He looked up between locks of hair into equally fury filled eyes of Achilles. "Don't you think about fighting against me boy, the results will not be pretty."

Shameful of his actions, Patroclus lowered his eyes. Achilles' chest was heaving with anger. Patroclus mumbled an apology. Achilles finally brushed away his anger, offering a hand to lift Patroclus back to his feet. "We shouldn't fight like this, you're like a brother to me." He clasped Patroclus's shoulders and Patroclus mimicked his actions. "Forgive me."

Achilles turned to walkout of the tent. "Achilles," Patroclus began. The older man turned on his heel, his eyes full of concern. "She has visions," Patroclus stated firmly. Achilles froze, his eyes cringing in confusion. He took a step further back.

"She what?" Achilles asked softly, his hand rubbing his chin in thought.

"She has visions, she always has." Patroclus was ringing his hands back and forth. The two men remained silent till Achilles grumbled something and reached for the doorway to the tent. "Do you think she would want to see Aldreana?"

"Thetis doesn't matter right now," Achilles curtly replied, and then disappeared. Patroclus shook away blond waves of hair and wanted to be back where it all began again, back on the hilltop with Achilles laughing at his jokes, smiling at his actions. Aldreana was too much trouble, she could make too great of a difference. Maybe Troy was a mistake…

* * *

I walked over another bloody heap of a body and felt my stomach churn again. Eudorus remained silent. His face was mixed with the same emotions I had thrown at Patroclus. I felt the silence soothing, relaxing me much more than Patroclus's words earlier. The wall of Troy grew more immense, till I turned around to face Eudorus. The man continued to walk past me, closer and closer to the wall. I matched my strides with his and looked over at his face. His weary eyes were glued to the wall.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked suddenly. Eudorus jumped at my sudden intrusion of the silence. His icy blue eyes were still glazed over with images of a different Troy and only when he blinked and the look was gone did he respond.

"Patroclus is too young." I opened my mouth to protest but he didn't stop. "This war will change his life forever. I hope that killing and death aren't the only things he will experience here, but a feeling to rekindle what he witnesses. You should have seen his face today. The once brilliant eyes and smile was masked by wide surprise and sorrow. The boy showed fear, but I believe he was dreading the moment when he would hold a sword out there. Maybe I'm wrong, but his true face was hidden from me today and replaced with a look I had never seen before in him." I nodded in agreement, but my head was buzzing with answers to contradict. "The reason I protect you Aldreana is because if there is one thing he would regret on this journey, it would be not meeting you each day in the midst of this war. Do not underestimate what a man feels during war, for it can be the greatest feelings."

I felt my pride, my heart swell up and I smiled brightly at the man. His dark scarf sent shadows over his face, the dark night matching the features, but I still sensed a smile in the man's face. The end of the wall lay only yards away. I stiffened and stopped, Eudorus coming with me. The wall looked enormous in my eyes. It seemed to glare at me, point and accuse. I wanted to scream at it, swear it wasn't my fault, but I held my tongue back.

"You should leave," I said. Eudorus took his own look at the wall. I could sense the fear coming off him, though his weather-beaten face would never admit to it. He nodded and turned to go, while I began my own path.

"Aldreana." I spun around to his call.

"Yes."

"You've been with us too long. Don't betray us and expect to make it back only to see him. You must choose a side. Either Patroclus, or your Prince in his golden city." I blinked in surprise, the words that poured out of his mouth harsh and stern, never something I imagined him to say. My mind quickly went to locking myself in the room I had taken in the palace, but I refused to become a coward. I nodded briskly and he tipped his own farewell and walked away. I watched his slouched back curve over the hill towards the light of the temple and prayed his dreams were not troubled by the torture of war.

I walked quickly over to the wall, the soft colored stone towering above me fifty feet into the dark sky lettered with stars. I debated waiting here till dawn and then going back to Achilles' camp. But another voice in my head refused to move back and it sickened me to think that half my mind thought what had happened between me and Patroclus was over. I pushed away the notion and crept up to the stone. I pulled my hand away quickly from the cold stone, my breath caught. Blood, clotted and thick had dried in the spot where my hand normally pushed against the stone to enter Troy. I took a deep breath and swallowed by pain. The suffering of war was held heavily on my shoulders and I took a deep breath as my hands hit the hard blood and pulled away the stone.

* * *

Patroclus paced his room back and forth, mimicking the steps of Achilles. Finally he stopped and looked at his sword. Such a powerful, yet such a deadly weapon. He hated it. It brought pain, yet he loved the feel in his hands. It was a wonderful feeling and he had to question himself why he used such a tool in life. When he saw Aldreana's face, he knew his thoughts on the weapon would change. But not his spirit, which was still fighting against what Achilles had said to him earlier. He eyed his sword greedily again, and then huffed his way out of the tent. The night breeze cooled down his sweating forehead and an instant chill swept over him. He looked around him. The once beautiful sky, the beach that glistened with brilliance, was now tainted with the first battle of war. The first shed blood.

"And it won't get any easier," Patroclus whispered to himself. His strength and adrenaline was forced to kick in and he blinked back into alertness. The tip of Achilles' tent waved at him with the breeze and Patroclus's hand was reaching out when a shape peeked out over the hill. Patroclus watched Eudorus walk over the hill's crest and he quickly and sneakily walked away from his cousin's tent and when his footsteps would no longer be heard he sprinted to his friend. Eudorus smiled weakly at the young man. He laid a hand of confront on the young man's shoulder, who was leaning in for the words.

"She is safe."

* * *

Hands wrapped the black cloth around my face so fast I barely saw the blur of the arms. The hood smothered me, the warm air suffocating me. When I began breathing again, so did my body came into motion. As they began carrying me away I screamed, muffled in the hood but knew somewhere heads were turning. The hands gripping my legs tightened and I felt them grow weak. My arms however had the ability to move and at the slightest corner I thrashed them out. I hit one man in the leg and the other in the gut. The man hit in the leg grunted, but the other gave way to my sharp jab. I felt my body fall. Only to have it hit the edge of solid stone. My body grew limb against the men as my mind was swirling from the hard fall. My body tipped forward and I realized by the labored steps I was being carried up a flight of stairs. The men grunted from my limb weight, but I refused to make their job easier.

My legs wobbled as they hit stone ground and I fell to my knees. A sharp prod made me spring up, my back aching with a thousand prickles of pain. Again I fell and again they pulled me up by the arms and stabbed me in the back with their feet. I muffled my cries with tight lips and ignored the pain. The sharp wind made me realize that I was on the top of the wall, the stairs I was carried on not far from the ones leading to the royal balcony. Slowly I came up, my back straight, but not straight enough. Another thrust sunk into my back and this time I cried out.

"Enough!" The savior's voice made my eyes snap open, though they were hidden behind cloth. "I never said cause her harm. Leave us!" I believed they bowed and wanted to exit quickly, but not before the hood was ripped away from my face. Hector's eyes of beady anger and troubled times stared at me through streaks of blond and brown hair that whipped around my face. I wanted to say something, but my mouth was stuck shut.

"I thought I told you to stay in the walls," Hector said. His anger made me flinch. "And today, today I see you tumbling down a hill, right for the height of battle. And who do I see behind you, nothing more than a Myrmidon who wraps his arms around you and carries you back to the hilltop where Achilles sits." He fumbled with his anger, which fought against his pride. I finally found my voice again.

"My lord, hear me out."

"No! I gave you an order to stay behind and you disobeyed me Aldreana. I watched as you were gathered into the arms of our enemy. Tell me how that shows any loyalty to your country, spy or not." He waited for my answer, which I quickly retorted back with as my wobbling legs, and unsteady assurance took hold.

"Loyalty? You ask of me loyalty and justice to my country. And I suppose that what Paris did today does not even add up to what I did."

"Paris has nothing to do with this." The wind caught his locks of dark hair, hiding his anger from me for a few seconds before revealing it again.

"Yes Paris does. You ask of my own feelings for this country. And today I watch him fight for his country and at the last second takes the coward's pull. How could you do that Hector? You put your life on the line, on your country only to save a poor, pathetic soul like his. How do you expect me to know one day a man like that will be ruler, stealing nothing more than king's wives?"

"I put my soul on the line to save my brother."

"A brother who has nothing more than a stolen wife and a coward's wound on his leg. He was fighting for what he thought was great and you took that from him. He deserved to die. It was his half of the agreement. You can't live your life with a boy like that attached to you waiting for you to save him when in trouble. A coward like that is not worth living." My sudden hatred for Paris spilled out in words I never imagined being spoken to Hector and at the moment I stopped I wished I could take them all back. My pride stuck up to a degree I hated. Hector stared me down with malcontent and the battle he was forced to fight in today was suddenly expressed in his face.

"If there is any live worth living, then Paris's is the one I would prefer. There is only one life you are given Aldreana and in my eyes, Paris has lived it to his fullest. I defend my brother. I defend his life because I hope he leaves this world with no war besides the one he fought in today." His words struck me hard and I stumbled for the edge of the wall, the hard-sanded stone rubbing against my smooth skin.

"I have fought many battles. And never have I experienced one with love in it. No, of all the things I have fought for, love makes the most sense for me. I hope that Helen is with Paris when this ends, I pray to the Gods she is." Hector looked out to the conquered beach, the camp twinkling at him with piles of wood stacked and sit aflame, signifying those lives lost today in battle. "Only one life Aldreana, how do you plan to live it? Will you be caught forever in a past of war and hatred, death and dying. Or will love carry you away to a place you wish you could stay in forever." His eyes took on a dreamy look. I knew he spoke of Andromache. For once I was at a loss of words. I didn't know how to respond to something so true. Hector sighed and heaved himself up from the bent position he had been standing in on the edge of the wall.

He looked down at me with unreadable eyes, which made my stomach stir uneasily. "Why did you disobey?" he asked again. I opened my mouth, then shut it and bowed my head in dishonorable respect. Hector grunted an angry retort, and then moved past me to leave. "I thought you would have listened to me." I spun around on my heel, watching the golden glint of his armor.

"What if I left to carry myself away from this world, what would you say to me then?" Hector stopped and faced me again, the scar running down his cheek cringing with his brow in confusion.

"Aldreana, there is not one Greek that I will open these gates for. No matter how much you love him. You betray your country for that man then fine. He will have to cross my dead body before he comes to you in this city and if he manages to get through, I'll kill him." Hector filled me with such fear and fury mixed in one I wanted to throw my arms at him, wailing that Patroclus was a good man. But I bit down on my tongue and let him continue. "This wall is the only protection I give you now. You will be able to leave freely, but how you get back in is a matter I care not about." His eyes showed apology, his heart spook truth. "Troy gives you only this wall, nothing else. The words spoken tonight are the last we share, Aldreana as friends." His pause reformed the bond between us. For an instant, his hand reached out for my cheek, then dutifully dropped down to his side. "You've grown so much Aldreana." I stared into his eyes, the green hue lulling him closer. But for once the spell broke, the clashing of swords and sprayed blood into the night sky reawakening his caution and anger towards me. "How the rest of the kingdom sees you is their opinion." His inclined head showed his leave and he walked away down the stairs and into his beloved kingdom.

I however stayed where I was, Hector's words buzzing in my head. Patroclus waited for me to come, yet knew the chances were slim. I paced the wall back and forth, looking down at the bodies lining their way from me to the camp of the Greeks. Agamemnon's anger rang over to me like a town center bell, the sharp ringing making me recoil, yet smile in hilarity. The king got what he deserved, I served him no longer. As the moon rose higher into the sky, so did my hopes that I would one day walk back into Troy, with Patroclus at my side and Hector beaming with happiness. There is only one life to live.

"Then I have chosen mine," I whispered into the wind. High anticipation told me that both men my heart clung to heard what I just said.


	12. Answering to the Call

**Chapter 11: Answering to the Call**

_The shackles shook with my actions, the blood smearing down my wrists. I twisted the iron chains again, tearing my skin once more. Struggling, I cried out in pain as I threw my throbbing arm aside. Frustrated, I looked through the small window in the dank cell. The dark hallway sneered back at me._

"_Help me!" I screamed. "Can anyone hear me?" I yelled frantically. Silence answered and I fell back into the deep despair, whispering for the aid that refused to come my way. "Help…" I drifted back to the dreams, the memories of my haunting past. My back stung furiously as I shifted against the cold stone. Boots suddenly rang and my head snapped up, too quickly. Blinking away stars, a face peered into the window, his body hunched over to look at me. The man still had my face burned into his eyes, my scream ringing in his ears._

"_Hold on Aldreana, it shall not be long," he whispered distraughtly. I glared up at him, but nodded my understanding, my doleful expression cutting him deep. "I've brought food." His voice was dripping with hope on revealing my elasticity to the man, hoping to toy with my good side. My stomach growled, but I still glared at him._

"_It might be the only good thing you have offered me." My flippant remark made the man regret whipping me. He sighed heavily._

"_You're hungry, take the food." He began slipping it through the bars when slammed iron doors made him spin around, diverting his stare from me._

"_What are you doing, the master said no one visits the girl till she obeys his wishes," the man with a gruff voice said to the other. I watched my savior's foot edge the bundle of food closer and closer. I was planted where I was in the moist dirt._

"_I felt the need to taunt her," the feigned voice made me cringe. "After all, my whips should have made her obey, since they haven't I felt the need to torture her more." The gruff man sniggered softly, and then shoved the man aside. The food dropped down into the cellar. I dived for it. The shackles shook violently as my fingers came in inch too short for the food. The slamming door left me with inaccessible food and a gurgling stomach._

_When the doors opened again I was beginning to wing in and out of insanity. I waited for the voice to speak but only heard the echoing of boots stepping down to my door. A jingle of keys and the door swung open. Father smiled with a contempt glare. He arched an eyebrow at my blank face, eyeing the food. He pointed at it with a gangly finger._

"_Who gave this to you?" he hissed. I shrugged my shoulders. He ran to me, slapping me across the face. "WHO?" My stinging cheek told me to answer, but my pride stabbed me deep._

"_Does it matter, you have let me to rot anyways," I answered bluntly. He cocked his head, his derisive face making me want to take back the words. He carelessly dropped the bundle, which opened to bread and cheese. I broke into a helpless sob when his boot stomped it into the dirt. He kneeled next to me, stroking my hair. I shrank back, the wall hitting my head. He grinned at me._

"_Why yes Aldreana, you will rot till I have what I want," he played with a curl of hair and I struggled with the chain behind my back. My slippery hand crept its way out. He grunted and spat on the ground, right into the still palatable food in my eyes._

"_And what is that, what is it that you want so desperately?" I said in between moans as I stifled my cries of pain when my wrist was free, half of the flesh torn from it. I began on the other hand. Father looked into my hazel eyes._

"_Death of course." The answer was frank. I pulled my other hand out, free of chains. The dagger poked my back from where I had sat on it for days. I gripped the hilt, unsheathing it._

"_I can give you that."_

_

* * *

_I woke in a scream, covering both my wrists. The blood was gone; the skin completely healed yet still showed vague signs of the shackles I was bound in. My hands went to my belt, the dagger still bouncing at my side. Breathing hard, I wiped away the sweat, the warm air and aroma of incense mixing with the air sending my head swimming. I sank back into the dense yet softened wood of the temple alter, the smoke curling around my face. The temple was dark, but all I needed was a bed for the night. The rest of the incense burned away and so did my prayers to the Gods. Apollo as my guide, Ares as my strong hold and Zeus as my healer, I prayed for the mind to make the choices, the guidance to make them and the heart to make it so.

The rundown temple, attacked by the Greeks, was the perfect hideout. A bundle at my side contained all my items from Troy, the ones that I desired. I saw Hector not once after the encounter on the wall. No one stopped me from leaving again. Paris even had to grab Helen back, who was threatening to leave back with me to the Greeks once more. He gave me a grave look, but yet mine back reminded that all of this was his fault. Myles was the only man who tried to stop me. His begging did nothing to alter my steps. I promised him we would meet again, though the only image in my mind was myself crying over his dead body once Troy was finished.

I blinked away the sleepy fatigue that sent me spiraling back into my nightmarish past. The sun streamed into the temple, the rising blue sky peeking into the dark hall. I proceeded to the stay and rest, but an anxious heart made me stand again. I hefted my bag over my shoulder and walked to the back hall of the temple. The view was spectacular, the rolling waves of the sea, and the colored sky as dawn made its way onto earth. And then there was the black, desolate smoke of the deceased in battle yesterday, the fires curling into black smog. I bit back anger to Agamemnon, and sadness to the soldiers. My eyes trailed to the black sails, black tents, black everything. But this was my salvation, my tranquility, and the camp of Achilles. My luxuriant love for Patroclus, one that had never developed in my cold heart, tucked away the remorse over Hector to the back recesses of my mind. I leaped off the edge of the temple, tripping down into the sand and hard limestone, but smiling with a frankly content heart.

I walked openly to the camp. The faces of the familiar Myrmidons barely giving me second glance. I walked promptly to Patroclus's tent when Eudorus caught my eye. His face was grave and I knew instantly the news wasn't good. Suddenly my eyes caught the hitched sails unfurled in the wind, the barrels rolling with the men escorting them to the ships, the leather skin bags of clothes.

"What is all this?" My stunned tone made Eudorus back away, my temper at risk. "Where's Patroclus?"

Eudorus pointed a quick finger behind me. I spun around. The rocky cliffs that held the temple up in the sky had conveniently hid the coast, the waves brushing across the sand and clearing away the footprints of the young man crouching in the beach. Patroclus clubbed a rock across the sea, the waves catching it with an ungraceful plop.

"There is to be no fighting for the Greeks today, but none more for the Myrmidons. We are to sail home, by order of Achilles," Eudorus said the words bluntly, solemnly still. I turned back around. He eyed me up and down. "I see you made it to Troy," he pointed out my new blue gown unnecessarily, the cream colored silk swatch that laid over it clasped with silver swirled designed pins. I arched an eyebrow.

"Must you point out the obvious?" Eudorus managed a grin, chuckling softly.

"And the cloak?" he acquired. I patted my bag, bulging with the stolen chiton from days before, my cloak and all other items.

"Must I hide myself always?" I asked again in a sarcastic tone. I looked back over my shoulder. Patroclus had sunken into the sand, leaning his chin on his crossed elbows over his bent legs. "I will never see him again after today. You leave tomorrow?"

Eudorus nodded. "You know that he would give anything to bring you aboard. But the risk is too dangerous. We don't need all of Troy on our heels," he advised. I held my head proudly.

"Troy wouldn't follow me. I am Greek Eudorus. My heart never was with Troy." My heart swelled in pain. "Where I go is my own choosing, Hector has no control over me. He allowed me to leave, but coming back would be a risk all on my own. He gave me the wall as my only companion." I wished silently that Hector still needed me. I wished that he himself would come and pull me away from the beach. But my mind was made up. Eudorus snickered.

"Well then, all you will have to put up with is Achilles. But we all know you how you feel of the great man." He smiled at my elasticity to the new happenings around me.

"Of course, I can always save me the trouble and climb secretly onto Achilles' ship." I glanced back at Patroclus. "Do you think Achilles would let me go?" Eudorus was at a loss of words, and could only shrug his shoulders, his stare distraught again. He took his own peek at the young man.

"Go to him Aldreana. He needs you." I nodded in agreement and made my way over along the beach. Eudorus stood where he was, then grabbed a packed bag beside him and walked up the ramp to the ship.

The water lapped up and around my feet, the salty spray tingling my warm legs. My gown billowed around me with the gust of wind, my carelessly combed hair blowing with it. The waves crashed along the land, but with each inch closer were made quieter till finally a little pool came to greet me. The edge of dress dripped and the sand stuck in-between my toes, rubbing the soles of my feet with my sandals. The gulls called overhead, circling the water before diving for a fish. Patroclus still remained mesmerized by the sea, till he looked up with surprise when my bag was thrown to the dry beach. He quickly stood, taking me in with fervent eyes and then rushed over to me, catching me in his arms, the splashing water soaking us both.

Our lips met, the sun hot on my shoulders while the waves rushed around us. The kiss was vigorous, passionate. His zealous lips grazed over mine, his lusting tongue tantalizing my own, till the compulsion was too great. He lifted me up in his arms tightly before dropping me into the cold water and holding me still. My breath was fast, too fast for the normal and I realized that never had he kissed me that dynamically before. He brushed away the hair the wind pulled into my face, caressing my cheek.

"Why do you keep coming back?" he asked. I refused to let the diatribe get to me, and immediately retorted back.

"Why do you keep answering to my call?" The answer was sly, catching him off guard. He opened his mouth and then closed it sharply. He smiled and kissed me again.

"Well," he whispered. "I can't say anything to that?" I giggled and much to his delight kissed him again, trailing my lips down his neck till I buried my face in his chest. He cradled me back to the beach, the warm sand welcoming as we sat down. He leaned his back against an idol rock, my head grazing past his shoulder and resting on his half exposed chest. I played with the ends of his black tunic, the trimmed edges wrinkled from use. The silence was soothing, till he could hide back his ebbing thoughts no longer.

"How do you keep escaping from Troy?" I sat up, his arm not letting me from his grasp from where he lazily laid. I tucked away a knotted lock of hair, Patroclus captivated by my green eyes.

"I didn't escape. Hector let me go free." Patroclus seemed startled by my answer.

"He just let you go?" I nodded, showing my own criticism to Hector's decision.

"Spying for the prince and king was never official, just an offer that I took up. The real service I gave up by departing was a courtier and maid to Briseis, the cousin of Hector." Patroclus hummed his understanding, though I knew history had to be explained. I took a deep breath as I began to share my past, the one that ran into my dreams and woke me in a cold sweat.

"I know that I haven't been honest with you, I'm sorry." I shifted my eyes up to him. His face was full of understanding. "What I have told you is what I believed to be true. But half of it was a story my father cooked up for me. Achilles didn't kill my mother or my brother, my father did." Patroclus inched closer, wrapping his arm around me to comfort me. "I lived in Greece, on the coast near the oasis. The children always believed of the Goddess that lived there and were afraid to go. Legends said that those who went never came back. I never believed it, but I have yet to go there. My father kept me close to him. One day he kept me so close I never got to say goodbye to my mother. She left to visit her father, but never came back. The Myrmidons had visited. Instantly my father placed upon them the guilt of my mother's death. They denied it, but my father continued to quarrel. That night our house was set aflame, we were forced to leave, my brother, father and I. My father, was his brash attitude and insolence, was looked down upon by the city, so we moved to Troy. There my father began teaching my brother and I sword on the hilltop ruins. H prepared my brother for war; I was just a spectator that got in on the action. Many wars came our way, my brother joined Hector's army for one of them." The words were hard, like sand scrapping my tongue. Patroclus listened solicitously, attentive eyes wrapped in my tale.

"My brother one day came up to me. He talked about my father, his deception. He gave me the dagger in hopes that he would be spared of a life of war and that with the weapon I would learn of my father's lies. I didn't understand at the time, but almost wished I had, because then I could have saved him. That same month, he didn't return home. Father claimed, as he was a member of Priam's court, that Achilles killed my brother. But that, of all things was a lie. We received word from a maiden that my brother was murdered in the streets of Troy, nowhere near the battlefield. I drew myself away from my father, the condescending man frightening me. Eavesdropping, I learned of a plot that he had planned consisting of me, kill the princes of Troy to get to the throne himself. I also heard that the lives of my loved ones were killed by his hands." I fingered the dagger. Patroclus tore my hand away from it and held it tightly. Tears had begun to well in my eyes. I stifled the sob and continued. "When he met my mother, he was a stable boy, she a maiden to a man at court. Her father and friends degraded him, made fun of him. He stayed though, for my mother. But his desire for the throne dispatched him of his love, his son. He killed them because they did not believe in his plots, his plans for cold-blooded murder. His dream, his hope, was that I would believe. He caught me listening in and he punished me. I refused to go with it. I wanted nothing to do with it. In court, where I was courtier to Briseis, Paris made up cruel rumors of my father's past, though what he said were the memories of the man himself. At first I denied them, but could hide the truth for only so long. I grew to dislike the stuck up, narcissistic prince. Hector ordered Paris to stop his claims and charges and leave me alone, but the ranting words are still ringing in my head. My father whipped me when I disobeyed him, hurt me whenever I threatened to rupture the plan."

Patroclus's hand traveled down my back, rubbing across the scars of the lashes I received. I shivered slightly. He carefully took his hand away. "Finally I acceded to his wish, I promised that I would do it. In the dead of the night I crept to Hector's chambers. But he woke, with me hovering over him with a dagger behind my back. Instantly, for the sake of my life, I told him everything. My father stood at the doorway, heard all my words and came crashing into the room, grabbing me and rushing back out. He stole me away into the tunnels underground, locking me in a cold cell for me to rot. The man who whipped me gave me food and I believe it was him that informed Hector of my location. Knowing my limitations, my father visited me rarely, only to spit at my feet and laugh. He taunted me and one day I gave him what he deserved…

* * *

"_Death of course." The answer was frank. I pulled my other hand out, free of chains. The dagger poked my back from where I had sat on it for days. I gripped the hilt, unsheathing it._

"_I can give you that," I sneered. The dagger flashed out, breaking flesh and tearing away veins and organs. My father gasped expansively, his eyes bulging with surprise. He stumbled backwards, the dagger, my brother's dagger, sticking out of his heart. The look I received was ineffable, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open and gathering blood. He looked to the impassable door and back to me. Tears welled in my eyes as I began sobbing, the blood from my wrists and his chest stinging my open skin. My demeanor was unexplainable. I sat and watched him die slowly, painfully. He rolled onto his side, gasping for breath._

"_Aldreana! Aldreana…" he whispered mildly, croaking for breath and splattering blood onto the dirt before him. I stood up and tossed aside the chains, exposing my freed hands. Without a smile, without a tear, I wriggled my fingers at him, showing him that his plan had failed. He, on the other hand, watched my moving fingers, my unreadable face and grinned with pride. His own flesh and blood had fooled him. "My daughter…" I looked into cold, unfaithful eyes that filled my life with death, hatred and evil._

"_Appearances can be deceiving," I said, answering to his pants and wheezes as death took over his own rule of life that had been uttered to me years ago. His body grew stiff. With one last breath, he died. The silence rejuvenated my soul. I closed my eyes from the ghastly sight. "It is finished," I whispered, the words I would have said to the dead man had the dagger been covered with Hector's blood. Vexed, I crawled my way over with wobbling legs to corpse, the demise of my father not pleasing nor savoring. Crying bitterly, I yanked out the dagger, another bone cracking violently as the blade grazed past it. The sobs became louder and more frequent, till I sat against the cold stone, gulping for air, my chest heaving in great sobs. My stomach flip-flopped as the doors in the hallway above echoed loudly. My head snapped up as I heard my name._

"_Aldreana!" Hector's voice called. Another series of men came behind him. I heard the soft treaded steps of the man who had inflicted me with a scarred back._

"_Here my lord, he kept her here." A jingle of keys was picked up from the ground. With a shock I realized that my father had left the keys behind, locking himself in the cell with me. I looked back dazed to the cold glazed eyes. Did he know what I would do? The door slammed against the wall and torches lit up the dark area. I barely noticed any of it._

"_He knew, he knew…" the whispered made idiotic sense, the men glancing quizzically at each other. Hector kneeled next to me, barely taking a second glance at the icy carcass across from us. He held my head in his hands, making me look at him. His face was blurry, almost surreal. He whispered my name, but I only repeated the words again and again. "He knew…he knew…"_

_

* * *

_The waves were the resounding beat of the silence that took over. Patroclus stared deeply at the ground, watching the sand move into a twisted design underneath his bare toe. He glanced at me, but I had practically forgotten about his face, his presence, and his warm touch around me. All I heard was Hector rushing to my side, my mumbled words that made no sense to the others. Patroclus looked at me when I let out a sickly sob. He licked his lips passively and wiped the tears drilling down my cheeks.

"I know that the death of my friend by my hand doesn't come close to your father's, but believe me when I say I know how you feel." I welcomed his comfort and didn't delay his actions when he rested my aching head on his chest. My tears soaked his stomach, rolling down his bare skin and toned torso, but he cared not. "Aldreana, no matter what you think, I take no pride in killing. It is something that sometimes has to be done. It is compelled by our raw anger, no matter how much we hate it or want to be rid of it. Our manner and conduct towards war will never change. You will see it as you do, and I will continue to see it as I do. The sword reaches my hand Aldreana, is taken within my grasp and it is like all that matters in the world disappears. I frightened you yesterday, when I showed no feelings for the lives lost. None of us do after it happens, but most of us do not take the time to set it right, to change what could be undone. I ask you to forgive me whenever I drop a sword on flesh, when my blade flashes crimson. You know of the feeling I speak of."

Patroclus prayed the words were not ill heard. He rubbed my shoulder, his hand moving up and down my warm arm. The feeling was soothing. I lifted my head, sitting up slightly and brushing away the last of the tears. Patroclus fiddled with the string I had pulled out of his tunic and he let the wind catch it as he spoke up. "Is that where it ends?"

I looked up into his blue eyes, the bright stunning color taking my breath away. My lips curved into a smile and I chuckled softly, happiness flowing through me. The story was finally lifted from my shoulders. The cold dreaded feeling of anyone acknowledging my past was a least worry. Loitering in the silence, I allowed the memories to flash back into my head.

* * *

_Hector laid me softly on the cushioned bed, my delirious mind unable to take in my surroundings. My mind drifted in and out of insanity and sometime in the night the sickening feeling finally set in and I vomited viciously. A maid who cleaned my wrists and cared for me reported Hector had stayed by my side most of the night, mentioning how dreadful he felt of my experiences. She however had nothing to say for it, knowing nothing short than my absence. I mumbled my own condolences to myself as I stepped in the warm watered bath she had prepare for me, sinking into tub with a refreshed soul. The maid walked in and out of the small room, the air sweeping in from my bedchamber balcony. She handed me soap and fragrance for my hair, helped wash my face of dirt and grime. She quickly ushered herself out of the room, leaving a towel and new soft wool clothes. I floated soundly in the water, my skin soaking in with the cooling liquid. A soft closing door made me raise my head, sharp ears listening for the sounds of voices._

"_How is she?" the voice was a crisp feminine, I instantly recognized Briseis._

"_She will be fine, hopefully…" the next was Hector. He shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. "Father, she was dazed, mumbling incoherent words when I came in."_

"_Oh and no doubt." Priam had walked to the balcony, the sound of his feet drifting to the other end of the room. "After what she has been through, it will take a long time for her to heal, spiritually. She never looked up to and loved a man like her father." His demurely voice was full of pity, a tired tone that gained in convalescence made me shameful knowing the king had spent the night up by Hector's worry._

"_What happened?" Briseis curiosity got the better of her. Priam walked briskly back to her._

"_Nothing my dear. Now why don't you help Aldreana get dressed?" A knock rapped on the door, but Briseis took no moment to wait and entered. Her wavy ebony hair draped over her shoulders in neatly brushed waves. She smiled sweetly at me as she offered me the towel. Spinning on her heel, she waited for me to wrap myself in the itching fabric, dry myself and slip into the light wool cream colored gown before turning back around to face me._

"_It's good to have you back Aldreana," she whispered politely and instantly pushed me down in the chair to comb my sopping hair. The curls in my light hair were already bouncing back, much to my dismay. Briseis began speaking again, but my mind was still trapped in the conversation in the other room._

"_What exactly happened father?" the derisive, non-caring voice made me cringe as Paris inquired the meanings of my presence. "The kingdom is still in search of her father."_

"_They won't find him," Hector retorted back with, lifting my heart as he defended me once more from Paris and his accusations towards my family. Paris shifted away from his brother._

"_Are you saying she killed-"_

"_Hush Paris!" Priam hissed with a shushing voice. My head dropped with the king's quick replies to silence my crime. "The child has been through more than most people."_

"_She kills in cold blood and you let her come back. Hector, you should have left her where you found her, where she can rot with her blasphemous father." His contemptuous tone made me spring up from my seat and run out the door. Paris came into full view and before the men registered the action, even Briseis open mouthed in the other room, I had Paris pinned against the wall._

"_You speak of me like I'm nothing more than a pig in the stocks. I killed my father to save your lives." I pushed him with all my strength, but the force took away all my adrenaline and I as well fell backwards. Hector caught me before I met the cold floor. Tears had come to my eyes, but my heart was so hurt and full of disbelief and confusion I let them fall. Hector shushed my sobs, glaring at Paris. The young man fixed his wrinkled shirt and huffed out of the room. Priam folded his hands behind his back as Hector helped me to my feet, Briseis looking down at the floor but offering her help as she paced with me back to the soft bed._

_

* * *

_"My feelings for Paris never changed after. I will always consider him a stuck up, selfish prince. Briseis remained by my side, I as her handmaid. Hector seemed to worry for me and soon brought me along where he could keep a watchful eye on me. That was how I was brought up into the trade of late as a spy. Hector went against it when Priam offered me more than just dark corners to watch from, but I told him that I was happy doing a service for Troy. And now that service has been severed, my life is now not laid down for any princes or kings of any country. I'm free to do what I wish." I finished the story short, leaving out the confrontations with Paris, the cautious need he had to see me where my father was, laying on dirt floor with a dagger wound in my chest. I left out Myles and Hector, that one that the prince and I shared creeping back into my mind. Patroclus made sure I was over and done with. He smiled slightly.

"So that's it, the mysterious Aldreana is solved." My brow crinkled at his mock attitude. He kissed my forehead. "One day that story will be legend, I swear. And I will protect you from any dangers and make sure the legend lives on, forever." I playfully pulled on another string, my fingers curling around the clasp of his jerkin and opening it. The thick fabric blew away in the wind, exposing his toned chest. I ran my fingers down the creases in his skin. He twirled a curl that escaped my hair.

Patroclus suddenly became serious. "Hector was a great man to you then?" I nodded.

"After my father, I looked to him as my hero, the man I grew to love. He cared for me like no other man. I grew to love him with all my heart, the coldness of my transgression and misdeed melting away because of him." I inclined my head and watched Patroclus confused slightly, but grinning still. "I will never forget Hector once I leave." Patroclus's head snapped back.

"Leave?" he asked quickly, sternly. I nodded again, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Eudorus told me Achilles' orders. You live tomorrow, and I go with you. Troy is a past that never should have happened. I do not want that to be my future either. I go with you Patroclus, you and only you." I couldn't resist any longer and quickly kissed him to spur up the moment. Patroclus cradled my head in his strong hands.

"This is a war the world will never forget. I have angered Achilles and startled you with my constant will for battle. But this war would have been bleak, miserable in my eyes had not been for you." My heart melted, touched by his words. Patroclus took a deep sigh, licking his lips with nervousness. "Achilles asked me when we first came here who I fight for. I told him I fight for him, my leader and my king. But Aldreana, of all the people he could have asked for, I would have responded with you. I fight for you Aldreana, and you alone."


	13. The Fires of Night

**Chapter 12: The Fires of Night**

Eudorus watched Aldreana and Patroclus with surreptitious eyes. The dark blond haired girl amazed him, confused him and yet was frightening almost. Such a dark past was clouded behind those lush green eyes, such a danger to her very soul. Her heart expressed love, kindness, frivolous behavior, but her soul, her mind was trapped in a chaotic world that Eudorus loathed. No woman such as her, blessed with beauty and such a spirit, should have to feel such things. Likewise, he felt the same ambiguous threat about Patroclus. A lone boy, with a good heart, yet was so easily corrupted by war. He could not call the blame to the narcissistic man Achilles, but could surely place the blame on all men who laid a sword in their son's hands. Eudorus watched Aldreana rise, pulling forth a sword clinging to her bags. She unsheathed the sword, swinging it lightly with one hand around her. Patroclus gazed with compulsion at her fluid motions, instantly standing and aiding her in more thrusting cuts to the air. Eudorus's contemptuous, distraught glare was plastered plainly on his face as Achilles stepped from his tent out to his captain.

"You spend as much time gazing at her as Patroclus does," Achilles remarked. Eudorus stepped slightly, startled by the leader's sudden presence.

"What do you think of her?" Achilles natural habit was a snort, crossing his arms and looking at his cousin who had now pulled out his own sword. _"Nervous?" Patroclus said slyly as he caught Achilles with his weapon. Achilles spun around, blocking all of his cousin's moves till he caught the young man in the same position, the wooden sword aimed for his throat. "Petrified," he answered with a devious grin._

"I think that Aldreana would have been his one blunder if he had fought at all in this war. He thinks too highly of her, distracted easily. I believe that she has other matters up her sleeves." Achilles shielded his eyes from the sun and looked sternly at Aldreana. Deep in his mind, he confirmed he was wrong, but was too bold to say so. However, Eudorus was not.

"You have spoken to her only with a brash attitude, and she in return gives back what was given to her. I think she is an honest girl who knows her ways around life the hard way, but at least she is stronger from it. She has lost much Achilles." Eudorus found his words ingratiating, Achilles lifted an eyebrow in question.

"You go against me Eudorus." His harsh voice made the other man stiffen. Then Achilles chuckled and laughed, clasping his hand on Eudorus's shoulder. "Men like you are the reasons I live for wars, with companions at my side to fight with me." He walked away chuckling still, Eudorus pondering over whether the girl in his tent was the reason for his high spirits.

* * *

Hector, his temper ill found by morning, moped his way into the run down temple with a group of armored men at his side. He kicked away a broken spear, brushing away a bloody rag that fell from the wall beside him. He came to the center room of the temple, where the alter stood still illuminated with a dying candle dripping wax down its side. Incense hung heavily in the air and the last piece of bread rolled by Hector's feet. He kicked it away petulantly. _She's been here_. Why his heart still cared and lifted to the lost spy was a mystery to him, but Aldreana had been stuck in his mind, incoherent thoughts of her voice and memories swirling through his head. He walked briskly out of the room, walking out to his first encounter with Achilles. The sea washed up against the rocks, the air cool and fresh. His blue cloak wiped itself around him, his black locks falling into his eyes. The camps of the Greeks dispersed themselves before his eyes and he bared his teeth abhorrently at them.

"My lord, this is dangerous ground, we shouldn't loiter," one man advised. Hector heard the man's plea, but scarcely cared about it. _"What if I leave to carry myself away from this world, what would you say to me then?"_ Aldreana's words echoed in Hector's head. He cursed, swore to himself for saying such things to her. Somehow he knew that what he said, his threat of the opposing wall as her only defense was a thing he would deeply regret. He should have begged her to stay. Become confrontational and so forceful she would be weeping to remain in Troy. Letting her leave was a mistake and Hector wished he could change everything that had happened, to the point where he left her behind in Sparta. But the past was not something to be toiled with, nor was the might of the Gods.

A hearty laugh caught up in the waves, crawling up the rocky cliff to Hector's ears. He jumped from the temple's edge and came as close to the sandy cliff as he could before the sheer, ominous drop made him steer himself back. Aldreana dropped her weapon and a man came and swept her into his arms. Hector sprang back from his spot, a pang of jealously eating away at his heart. Who was the man? Hector leaned forward again, catching a flash of blond hair and a swatch of black tunic. Achilles…Hector snarled, vexed by the idea. The men came up behind him.

"My lord, come, we must return back to the city." Hector needed no more recommendations from his men, turning his back to the couple below on the beach. He walked efficiently, almost at a run, to the horses and jumped on. Galloping away, he heard his men coming up not far behind him. The burly man beside him looked at his prince quizzically, but remained silent. Hector eyed the man out of the corner of his eye.

"We attack tonight, when they sleep and dream. They will never suspect a thing," Hector proposed stiffly. The husky man gave Hector a passive look, finally acceding and nodded. Hector kicked his horse's flanks, the animal bounding ahead into the blood stained field of the battle from yesterday. When the walls of sand and sun brunt colored stone came into view did Hector finally breathe with relief again.

* * *

The waves seemed to be the only sound as Patroclus held me in his arms. I felt a secure feeling to his touch and was sent into a river of chills each time a breeze came. His arm rubbed my bumpy skin, sending it back into its smoothness. He rested his face on my head, staring at the dying day with me. The sun reflected sharply on my dagger, the hilt glinting its bright brilliance into my face. I raised my head and with it Patroclus too rose back up. He brushed away hair from my eyes. I let him caress my cheek, allowing his hand twine itself around my slim waist to my chest.

"Patroclus," I whispered. He hummed his attention. "You have yet to teach me sword." He smiled slightly.

"I know, but it is a promise I indeed to keep." I pushed him away playfully and stood back up, walking to my bundle of things and untying the sword that hung from my bag. The metal was hot, heated from the sun and molded all too perfectly to my hand as I slipped it out from its case. I lifted it to take in the full length, and then circled it around in midair, my liquefied motions sending Patroclus transfixed. I twirled around in the air, striking non-existent enemies in front of me. Patroclus's blue eyes made me giggle.

Balancing the blade tip down in the sand, I leaned on it and looked at him. He sat in the sand with his hands resting on his knees, his partly bare chest glistening in the sun.

"My father taught me a little skill or two," I joked. Patroclus chuckled and stood up. He came behind me, his arms on either side of me and grasped his hands around my own on the sword. He matched my moves, helping me slice the air with his own teachings. The movements were quick and rapid. Making me hardly believe one man could do such things. While he willed my hands to move, I was the one to hold the weapon. I dreamed of the day where I could see Patroclus do the same things alone.

"Achilles' first lesson for me was to believe the no one could pass me. I had to be fast, so the opposing force would not even calculate my next move before I made it. The enemy wouldn't even be able to register the fact that I would kill him the next second." He let go of my hands and watched me repeat the movements he just showed me. He nodded at each right and strong move, testing my ability. Proud of my quick learning I hacked away fiercely at the air. I could feel Patroclus's creamy blue eyes on me and decided to test my own mentor's skill. Fast as lightning, I spun around with my sword piercing the air. The next second I clashed metal against metal. The force made me back up and I blinked in amazement. Patroclus smirked, lowering his sword that he had quick thinking pulled from the belt at his side.

"The second lesson was not to turn my back to the enemy." The momentary silence was for me to learn my mistake, and then I rushed at him. He easily came at me, making me back up yet keep him at bay. I could tell he barely worked his muscles, the ones pulsing in his arms every time he lifted his word above his face and then brought it lightly down to me. The light from the sun made him look unreal, like a God almost and I stared with a tranquility and peace inside me knowing I had made the right decision. While he hardly worked, I put all the skill I knew into proving I was better than he thought. My headstrongness, however, got the better of me as Patroclus whacked my sword harder than normal. I knew as I tripped into the waves of water that he was over come by the heat of his sword, the feeling of bringing down the enemy. My face was hidden in the glare of the sun and as he pointed the blade at my throat I knew that he was lost in the battle of yesterday.

He stiffened, blinking wildly. The sword was shaking in his unsteady hands, the point wiggling back and forth in the air, grazing across my skin. He was breathing heavily, while gasping in ankle deep water, my blade still clutched in one hand. He sheathed his sword and held out his hand. I offered his merit with a slight trick of my own and instead of getting to my feet yanked him down. Unaware of my sudden action, he collapsed with a splash next to me, his hair flicking back in my face with drops of water. The foamy clear liquid coughed itself with each wave against us. Patroclus glared up at me, while I tried my hardest to stifle my laugh. He whipped out his hand, splashing me again. I gasped as the water splashed my face, smearing the water away from eyes and looking up as he stood and ran away. Laughing I got up just as quickly and grabbed his tunic that flapped in the air. His arms wrapped around my waist as he ducked under my sweeping arm and came up behind me.

"I thought your first lesson was to be quick, so the enemy could not calculate your actions," I mocked. He leaned against me, holding me close and resting his jutting chin on my shoulder. Looking up at me with excited blue eyes, I felt my body melt with glee at the admiration he gave me.

"I thought I told you never to turn your back on the enemy. Who knows when I can come up and surprise you?" he whispered as he trailed his hands down my waist. Shivers ran down my spine at his gentle touch and I fell into his embrace as his zealous kiss made my knees rattle together. I felt eyes. Staring at me the whole time, and when the kiss ended did they vanish. I looked up to the cliff where the temple sat idly, the hazy night that darkened with each second hiding the structure. I searched for what I had felt; they were the eyes that could no longer be seen. _Hector?_ my mind whispered. We stood there in the water, our damp bodies pressed against each other.

Patroclus said not a word, not even mentioning my gaze at the temple. His kisses trailed down my neck as he led me back to the dry beach. We collapsed together in the sand, his hands suddenly tearing away my damp clothes from my body, grazing up my legs. I cared not if out actions were to be later hushed in the camp. Let the men have their pride and dignity sucked away from them as they gazed with greedy eyes at me, Patroclus's sword at the ready to hold them off. Patroclus seemed to answer to his own desires, not withdrawn because of Achilles' doubt or mistrust of me. His hands flourished along every crevice of skin, his fingers tingling, a fiery essence that coursed throughout my whole body. He leaned over me, grabbing me in his strong arms. Our bodies were clasped together, with the raising night, the stars were all that remained as our company…

* * *

Stars sparkled brightly, winking, twinkling down at us. Their expansive sight seemed to look beyond us, beyond Troy to a place where love couldn't be disrupted by war. Patroclus and I walked back to the camp, the sand dunes and hills blocking my view of the looming city. I felt my heart lingering for the forgotten home still. Patroclus kept silent and allowed me my one last regret. I knew my eyes were showing something different than my smiling and serene face, I knew they had to have showed a hint of evasive to them, the green hue murky with Troy and Greece. Patroclus kept his words tongue in cheek, glancing up at the dunes of often and sighing greatly. There wasn't jealousy marked in his face, but I knew deep down he loathed Hector, whining for my love and for the prince to be demolished by his lust.

Achilles' tent and likewise the Myrmidons came into view, the small fires and gathered men casting shadows across the sea. Patroclus walked nonchalantly into the camp, but I suddenly felt the hair of my neck stand on edge. His hand pulled on mine and he spun around with surprise.

"Aldreana--" I held out my hand, shushing him. He cocked an eyebrow but my glare made him serious, frivolous attitude wiped clean. Dropping my bag and sword, I hunkered down and slinked my way up the small hill. Patroclus crouched down with me as we crept up the sand dunes, his hand guarding my back. He occasionally took a peek behind him while my eyes were stuck ahead. We crossed over a dune, the wall soaring into the air. A thin black line ran along the field, starting from the beginning of the Greek's camp to where Achilles' began. I stepped closer, the hazy line taking shape. The lumps and ridges of the figures confused me. Patroclus grabbed me from behind. "Come on, it's dangerous here," he warned. I brushed away his arm and continued closer. Another hill sprang up from the side of us, hiding the temple that still poked into view. Another black form was standing there. A shiver ran down my spine and I felt a pair of eyes on me besides Patroclus's deep set blue ones.

Thwack! Simultaneously, the night sky was lit with a fury of arrows. Fire licked of the wooden poles of arrows and landed roughly in the sand. Another taunt bowstring made me look up to the hill next to us. Two arrows flew through the air, the fire sparking and flying into my face as it landed feet from me.

"Aldreana!" Patroclus sprang for me, hauling me back as another arrow was launched, this time landing where I had stood moments before. The men crouched down in the sand looked up, their faces lit up in the fire. They aimed their arrows at Patroclus and me. A horse cried wildly as blood soaked the sword. A man came from behind them, attacking them and hacking away at them till nothing familiar remained. Sending my merit, I ran down the hill, Patroclus quickly behind with his sword drawn. A thundering sound suddenly came from after, a rolling sound that rang in my ears, slicing through the quiet night. My eyes grew wide as I looked over my shoulder. The Trojans, who had suddenly appeared like magical creatures from the night, threw round balls of hay down at the Greek's encampment. They easily caught fire and rolled down the hills in a chaotic burst of flame. Sand was whipped pout in all directions as the fiery bales rolled past us; I watched them set the tents and sullies of the Greeks aflame. An explosion came from one tent, the fire rising feet into the air. I screamed at the booming noise, watching splinters of wood and cloth fly in each which way. Hectic cries gave way as the men tried to stop the havoc. To my utter surprise, Achilles' camp seemed untouched, as if the Gods themselves were protecting it.

"Aldreana, look out!" Patroclus leapt for me, covering me with his back to the rolling hay ball that came up behind. I felt the heat escape to me, trapping us for a split second in unbearable turbulent anguish. Patroclus yelped in pain as the fire grazed his back, singing his flesh. From beneath his crossed arms I peeked in between fringes of cloth and skin, the fire pass us quickly and flew down the hill towards an idol tent. It was easily demolished. Patroclus winced as we stood back up and ran for the tents. My worried filled eyes couldn't tear themselves away from his burned back, the red welts and hideous burns rising in puffy blisters. The sizzling camp enveloping all around was engulfing us in intoxicating fumes and billows of smoke.

I looked back to the dunes. The light from the flames and blaze lit up his face. Hector stood grudgingly, his eyes willing themselves into my soul. My heart twisted in pain and agony at his face. Patroclus looked up and met the other man's eyes. The look that passed between them was filled with repugnance and revulsion. Both their faces were locked together in an epic duel, my stomach churning and sickly bubbling with anxiety. We sprinted into Achilles camp and with out delay Patroclus immediately went to his cousin's tent, leaving me in the cloudily darkness. I made out the shape of Eudorus, but he was busy with the last of the Myrmidon tents that had caught the Trojans surprise attack.

Infuriated with my rash actions, my mind kept replaying Patroclus's yell of pain, the looks between him and Hector. I wished for something different. I wished that the meeting between them was of my choosing and not Paris'. Patroclus and Hector would not hate each other if just given the chance. _That will never happen and you know that_. My mind seemed to scold me of imagination that was only dreams. And sharp twist and grinding of the sand didn't pull my thoughts away, nor the heavy, stiff breathing of lungs caught in a torment of smoke. I was completely unaware of the creeping men that appeared from the shadows of the tents, their sneers and impudent smiles filling their faces.


	14. The Growing Infatuation

**Chapter 13: The Growing Infatuation**

Rough, dirty hands suddenly clasped around my throat and mouth, stifling my shout. A wisp of smoke was dragged into my lungs, my eyes watering and my lungs aching for clean air. A tangy, sour breath reeked heavily of old food and ale, seeping in through his grimy fingers and coming to my nose. I choked on his scent, begging for sanitary life support.

"Well, well, well, look what Trojan whore I've found?" He twisted my arms behind my back and three others appeared chuckling from the gloom. "Agamemnon has been waiting and he dislikes people who defy his orders." Easy retorts came to mind but the man barely allowed me to have an escaped breath. The scene around me of the dimming camp and the foggy air was growing dark as I blinked away pain from my mind, which was drenched in agony. They all grinned at me, their faces drowsy and heavily marked with the forces of bingeing at its works. They were big, burly men who cared nothing but their own pleasures, the warm air announcing the opportunity to undress with nothing more then a pair of trousers. They wore long hair in knots and quickly tied back, swords at sides and knives tucked into sandals holsters strapped around ankles.

"Come along now whore." He shoved me forward. He walked me down through the camp, sharp eyes and breaths of fire like a dragon pouring out of the men's mouths. They glared at me, threw punches at others and sulked with companions. My fading sight made the man bask in glory as he shoved me around, giving him the chance to trip me and pick me up with his hand clasped around my chest. I whined pain but he scoffed and continued on. The men following all held in getters of excitement, knowing the praise they would receive from Agamemnon for finally capturing me. We passed a well built, clean cut group of men and I swear amidst the fog and smoke I saw Odysseus lower his eyes in disappointment. The man led me to the giant ship that was the make shift palace of Agamemnon.

We easily dodged the disorder and turmoil of the half destroyed camp, tracing back the men's steps into the tent. The man lifted the flap and pushed me in. I fell to my ankles, coughing with relief when the man's warm sweaty skin peeled itself off mine. Cold eyes could be felt staring at me but I ignored them, the diatribe and actions of the men cutting deep into me. Gold and treasures surrounded me and, as if the King couldn't part with his wealth, littered the floor, the center of the room strewn with rugs that served as the walkway to the stout king on his throne. Gray curled hair rimmed with gold clasps fell over his shoulders, his leather armor and bulging gut in the state of rupture. He ate a leg of chicken, throwing it carelessly aside when the men ushered me in. The king eyed me as one of the village vagrants, nothing necessary of worthiness. His derisive stare made me look straight back at him, my own flippant looks and flick of a finger giving him the start of a fast and brutal compulsion of enragement. Agamemnon took a swig of his wine and then too laid that aside. He smiled deviously at me, the man who uncovered my mouth keeping a knife to my back.

"Well, look at how something that was stolen from me now returns." He waved his hand, the other three men standing guard outside the tent. He grinned at the triumphant men, standing up with a grunt and circling me. His fingers twined themselves around my hair. I snapped my head back, his breath and nose not yet reaching the locks. He arched an eyebrow. "Have more respect for your king, spy."

"You are no king of mine, and furthermore you men do a pitiful job of listening to orders." Agamemnon looked as of he didn't believe what he hard, so I continued. "I'm sure that orders were not to hurt me, well they have." Agamemnon examined my wrinkled gown, my knotted and wind slapped hair.

"Is that so?" He jostled the man's hand aside, whose face showed a feigned twinge of his lips as his upper lip lifted in a snarl at the king's actions. Agamemnon dropped the knife to the floor, instead replacing it with his own golden dagger. The man sulked in a corner, wishing to have more time to torture me. "Tell me, Aldreana, what the thing you promised me was?" he asked daringly and a hint of threat and risk to my life. He flashed the knife in my face, my eyes reflected off the shimmering gold and for him to see. I gave a contemptuous, spiteful glare, opening my mouth when a ringing of metal tore our heads to the door. There was a clash of swords and the sickening thud of a body, and then the outcry of another man as his flesh was pierced with a sword, the tearing and splashing of the blood making me wince. A grunt and another spray of blood against the wood floor allowed Patroclus admittance to the tent. He glowered at Agamemnon, agility mixing with grace as he stepped in front of the man, pointing the sword tip at the his throat.

"She goes free with no harm to her at all!" Patroclus ordered in a condescending, peremptory voice. Agamemnon's penetrating stare didn't falter Patroclus's motions, the sword coming closer. I felt my heart skip a beat, the guardian facing the arrogant king and me sending my heart into tremors. I breathed relief, Patroclus's eyes glinting with a smile at me. Agamemnon, however, still glared at Patroclus as he chuckled heartily, sardonically.

"Achilles sends his cousin to do his business. First the slave girl and now the spy?" His belligerent, merriment filled voice fell to deaf ears, the man all but smiling hideously. A sudden commotion and a group of armored men came sprawling into the tent. Patroclus swore under his breath and kept the men at bay with the swinging sword stopping them in their tracks. Patroclus's eyes frightened me, filled with the same intensity, craze and intensity that Achilles had each time a battle was ready to spring.

"She is of no consolation to you anymore. She doesn't serve you, nor does she serve Achilles." Agamemnon waved his hand, his eyes still staring with revulsion at the young man opposing him. The other guards lowered their swords, not swayed still by their king's orders. Patroclus waited until each weapon was put down before he sheathed his own. Agamemnon pushed the knife further into my back. Patroclus tensed and stepped closer.

"You like striking deals, do you not my lord?" he eyes were full of caution and he pursed his lips in clever consideration. I futilely aimed a confused look at him, which he dismissed with no emotion. Agamemnon painstaking thought on it. He circled the knife along my back, hitting the ridges of a scar and easily grazing over it with force that me my jump.

"Depends on the deal, such as the one your little woman here made," the king answered insolently with a hint of indifference in his tone. Patroclus knew he was losing the interest and quickly concocted other methods. "She promised me that Achilles would be under her power and that she could persuade him to come back to battle. It seems she has not fulfilled her duty." Patroclus gave me a quick look of disbelief. I lowered my eyes at his penetrating look. I could see out the corner of my eye his jaw clench with anger.

His hands grew to fists, pulsing with uncurled fingers then curled balls of flesh once more. Agamemnon placed the sharp dagger into my skin, breathing down my neck and slipping his fingers down my chest. He laughed in my ear, rubbing his face against mine and looking at Patroclus. "I see you have not heard her deal, she keeps so many secrets my boy. She promised me that she would win the key to Achilles' heart, that her sustenance would relive him and send him back into the impudent state of which wins me wars." Patroclus bit on his cheek, looking down at me out of the corner of his eye. "She promised me Achilles with the skills of a spy."

"No! Patroclus, no!" I cried above the king's voice. Patroclus diverted his eyes from me, falling into a trance of excruciating amount of pain. His eyes showed disbelief to Agamemnon's words. "Patroclus please do not believe him!"

"Ah, but it is true Aldreana. That means the inevitable to your friend here, doesn't it?" Agamemnon said in a guttural voice. He pushed the dagger further into my skin. Grabbing my face, he turned me to look at him. His eyes were pure evil. "Look at the boy." I remained immobilized. He pushed my head to face Patroclus, cracking my neck. "Do it!" he shouted. I lifted my eyes and met clear blue ones. "You love him, I can see it, and he loves you. But something is the matter, because Achilles is supposed to be saving you and instead, he has a slave girl, who promised me nothing. Now Aldreana tell this boy, that your love is a lie and that you went through him to get to Achilles." A pained expression was stamped on Patroclus's face, while tears welled in my eyes.

"Patroclus, please believe me, it was the only way to see you again, please believe me." Patroclus shook his head, averting his eyes and staring at the ground. His chest heaved up and down and I saw his arms tense as he clenched his fists, scowling at the ground. Agamemnon laughed in hilarity.

"You've been busy my lady," he scornfully and happily belittled me. My heart pounded, racing with a passion only felt once before in my life. I jabbed my shoulder up, catching his chin. He doubled back, letting go and throwing me aside. I clumsily fell into Patroclus's arms. He caught me and held me tight.

"Wretch!" I screamed at the moaning king. The dagger flashed and Agamemnon swung at me. Patroclus stepped me aside and grabbed the king's arm, holding it in the air. His eyes were like demons, staring at the other large man with intensity. Agamemnon stared at his clutched arm and dagger, trying to wriggle free from Patroclus's grasp. A slur of curses strolled out of the king's mouth.

"Mark my words boy, that bitch will pay for what she has done." With a flick of his hand Patroclus's twisted the king's wrist. Agamemnon shouted in pain and dropped the dagger. The gold beckoned to me and I instantly grabbed it, tucking it beneath my skirts. Viciously, Patroclus threw aside the King's arm, wrapping protective arms around me. Agamemnon clutched his jaw in one hand, cradling his wrist close to his chest. "I could have you killed right now, Aldreana too," he said raucously. Patroclus smiled cunningly.

"We have done nothing wrong, only answering to the king's behavior." He picked aimlessly at his nails, one hand still on the sword hilt. I looked up and stifled my chuckle. A fierce look from Patroclus made me remain silent. Patroclus tilted his head to the side, his mischievous eyes directed towards the king. "You want Achilles to fight, I'll get him to fight, and I give you my word as a soldier." My jaw dropped at Patroclus's words. I closed it shut, hiding my complaints. "On one condition." Agamemnon stopped his advancement on Patroclus and me. He eyed me while rubbing his throbbing chin, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "Aldreana is not to be harmed or harassed any longer." Agamemnon chortled softly to himself as he turned his back to us. Patroclus stepped in front of me, his arm shielding me from the king. "Do we have a deal?" Gray eyes spun back around a blaze of revulsion and hatred. A stubby, fat finger was pointed at Patroclus's throat, hostile and intimidating, though Patroclus flinched naught.

"I was weakened today boy. We fight tomorrow at dawn. When that sun rises and I move my men, Achilles better be with me, or it's your life I take."

"Patroclus no!" I shouted but Patroclus slammed his arm into me.

"Deal." Agamemnon smiled gruesomely. He looked over Patroclus's shoulder at me. I bitterly bared my teeth at him, ready to spit on the ground had Patroclus not been in my way. Ecstatic and giddy beyond belief, he easily adapted to his new found joy, turning his blazing anger into a brawling sense of injustice and reward only for a king as impudent as him.

"You have till tomorrow boy, and if not, it will seem Aldreana will be mine once more." The wave of his hand made Patroclus turn and leave. "Oh Aldreana, I'd like my dagger back now." I stopped in the doorway and tore out the dagger from my belt. The cool blade begged for me to stab his heart, but I carelessly threw it to the ground.

"I live to see you die," I pledged as I walked out into the cold night. Stars twinkled brightly as Patroclus's wrapped his cloak around me and walked me to the Myrmidons camp. A cold wind had settled, disrupting everything from its spot. Flags fluttered in the wind, tent flaps snapped wildly against the taunt fabric. Bon fires and chaos of the attack from the Trojans still filled the air. The dark eyes of men glared with enrage at Patroclus and me, watching us and following us with repugnance and disgust. They sat around the fires, warming themselves up and resolved in a dreamlike position, staring into the dances flames with a provocation in their eyes that made me cringe.

The smell of burned flesh and rotting corpses broke into the smoky sky, eating away at the beauty of the beach where we had sat today. The black tents blew in the wind, unaffected by the Trojans. My heart warped dubiously as I was pestered with the notion that Hector had protected my camp, when the calling of the Gods made me believe their guidance was with me. The conversation between Agamemnon and Patroclus bubbled within me till I could stand it no longer. He remained silent, his eyes still blazing with anger but his touch gentle, his fingers intertwined in mine. I felt sweltered by the words and suddenly flung Patroclus's hand off mine.

"How could you do that?" I screamed, watching heads behind Patroclus reel around to look at me. Patroclus gave a frivolous, sardonic laugh.

"And the same can't be said about you?" he asked.

"Why would you put your life to a king like that Patroclus, why!" Patroclus slammed his fist on a shield resting against a tent, the ringing echoing sharply in my ears.

"Do you not recall the fact that Achilles is the only leader I follow and that you did the same to see me again? You put your life in his hands to see me. I put my life on the lines to see that he doesn't rape and murder you in the night." I instantly lowered gaze, foolish of my actions. Patroclus snorted a contempt accusation and continued on, then stopped. "Aldreana--" I spun round on him, pointing a reproachful finger at him.

"I said that only to rid myself of him and to have a safe excuse of returning. How could you believe anything he said, you know that I wasn't using you to get to Achilles, you know that!"

"And you as very well know that I said that to save your life!" Patroclus shouted back. Patroclus's eyes were filled with the appearance of renegade, as if I as well as he had betrayed one another and Achilles.

"Then get yourself into a battle or two. I saw it in your eyes, the love you have for battle, and I saw the desire, crave for it, the will to give anything to fight along side Achilles by dawn tomorrow." I crossed my arms and gave a headstrong, proud look. Patroclus opened his mouth than shut it.

"The only love I have Aldreana, is the love for you." His voice was a whisper, thinking and mirroring the images of what was spoken before in Agamemnon's tent. "When I- I came out of Achilles' tent and found you gone, I was scared. I have never been afraid of battle, I probably never will be, but I was terrified at that second when you were not waiting for me. I panicked, thinking the Trojans had attacked you, killed you. One of the Myrmidons told me you were dragged off with a group of Agamemnon's men. I could have called for Achilles, but I didn't. I don't think I had been that frightened in my life before. My heart was churning and my stomach rolling in worry, but yes Aldreana, I was filled with a desire, with yearn. And that was the abhorrent disgust for Agamemnon. If he would have hurt you, I would have killed him."

My heart melted, the angry words fading in an instant. Tears welled in my eyes, though not seen glinting by the light of the fire merit the hood of my cloak. In a sob I fell in his arms, and he didn't flinch as before when I first met him, or move away because of Agamemnon's threats. He wrapped his arms around me, smoothing my hair and drying my face. "Don't cry," he whispered. I sniffled, flushing at my sudden alleged sadness. "Aldreana, I will protect you always."

"I know," I breathed. "I just want to know that this isn't a trick, that you actually feel what you say."

He smiled at me, the grin taking his whole face. He leaned towards me, whispering in my ear, "If this be a spell of yours, let it not end." His lush lips touched mine and in a quick kiss we turned and walked briskly back to the tent. They stared at us still and when I looked over my shoulder a pang of jealously washed through each and every man. They looked away quickly, sinking back into the despair of the fire. The silence was soothing, filling in the words that were not spoken. Eudorus nodded to us as we passed, glancing back once before slipping into his tent.

Patroclus ushered me into his tent, the makeshift bed disturbed as we fell in a rush of kisses and grasps. I untied the cloak as he kissed my neck, making me shiver in a wild spasm. He chuckled softly at my prickling skin, moving back to my lips. The kisses grew deeper, the rush of them barely even registering in my mind before they happened. Patroclus took out his sudden passion with the sword on me, kissing me hard and long, and the feeling indescribable. I felt his hands travel down my back, past the stinging sensation that Agamemnon's dagger created.

I moaned softly from where his hands were placed, his fingers massaging the skin lightly. I whispered his name and he looked down at me, imploring for the call. His eyes were filled with lust, the blue twinkling brightly. I smiled, catching my breath before bringing his face down on mine, intertwining my fingers through his silky hair. He pulled back suddenly, looking me in the eye. "What?" I asked. He smiled and rolled over, taking me with him so I laid my head on his chest.

"Agamemnon's words didn't surprise me you know." As he spoke I began unbuttoning the laces of his tunic, slowly taking the shirt off. Likewise the sleeves of my gown were wrinkled and absurdly twisted around my arms, exposing the beginning of my breasts. I hummed my answer. "Aldreana, you're a spy. Somehow I realized that after everything that had happened, the possibilities of you making it back into the camp without Agamemnon's permission was ridiculous." I smiled. "Only you would be so clever to think of such a lie."

"Oh and what about you?" I raised my head, sitting up with Patroclus, his arms around me. "How will you get Achilles to fight tomorrow?" Patroclus cocked a quirk eyebrow up at me.

"Hector attacked us, he is Achilles' worst enemy, and he is probably one of the only reasons why my cousin even came here. Hector, the famous horse tamer and the leader of the invincible Trojans troops." I scoffed at the exaggerations, Patroclus grinned. "When I walked into the tent he already had his mind made up. The Myrmidons fight at dawn," he said it so bluntly, so plainly it took me moments to realize what he meant.

"That means you fight at dawn tomorrow," I answered, curtly, huskily. Patroclus's face grew solemn, grave almost. Finally acceding to my words he nodded. I gasped softly but he cut me off.

"Don't worry Aldreana please." Unconvinced, he kissed my lips. "Tomorrow morning when you wake, I will return, I promise you that." He stroked my hair, his hand loitering on my cheek. "You're so beautiful," he whispered aloud, making me blush horribly. "Aldreana, I want you to know, that I would never have pestered Achilles this much had it not been for you."

"So you want to show off?" I asked in a playful tone, much different from the doleful expression from before. He laughed softly, looking back into my hazel eyes and rubbing my marble smooth skin.

"No, I think I have finally learned the meaning of war. Luckily, I have what is needed most in times of hatred." He kissed me softly as fatigue began to rush into us both, but I became more zealous, rolling him unto his back and staring down at him and his bare chest. My breath caught at the handsome face, wondrous eyes, sculpted body. I drew myself to him, lying down on his chest with the warmth of his body to protect me. Patroclus cradled me, holding onto me even when I fell asleep, his head nestled in mine.

* * *

Patroclus roused suddenly. He glanced down, finding the pitiful blanket halfway off his chest. He quickly threw it off and rolled to his side, where Aldreana spelt soundly. Her face was beautiful, a ray of moonlight seeping in from the hole in the ceiling and magnifying her face. Her red lips puckered with kisses beckoning to him, but Patroclus ignored them as he slowly and sneakily sat up and grabbed his cloak. Aldreana shifted, humming in her sleep as she rolled over onto her side, her face half hidden by her arms. A wisp of brown hair fell into her face. Patroclus brushed it away, mesmerized by her loveliness.

Sighing, he quickly walked out the tent, ducking when a Myrmidon groggily stalked into his. The ambers of the fire were glowing, the last of the sparks flying up into the air in a breathless float. Patroclus slinked his way in the shadows, in between the tents, coming to Achilles'. He effortlessly opened the flap, peering in. His cousin was naked, wrapped around the waist in a dark blanket. A woman, dark haired and faired skin with bruises down her face was lying on him, her shaped body only half concealed by the thick black cloth. Patroclus blinked, her prettiness amazing him. The mystery of the happenings of the girl, the cuts on her face and the love that Achilles had for her was just as much a puzzle as Aldreana herself.

The moonlight tore him back to his plan, the deal with Agamemnon. Black leather armor glittered in the glow, the beam from the moon resting on the whining armor. Patroclus's fingers itched and carefully he stepped lightly over his cousin's ankle, in-between the girl's legs, coming face to face with the armor. Aldreana's face was launched back into his mind, the same love for war and weapons telling him to take it. The infuriated face of Achilles, punishing him for his actions rushed in to him too. And then Hector, his stare, his undying love, affection for Aldreana flooded into his mind, drowning him in jealously.

Patroclus greedily picked up the armor from the post, tucking it under his arm as he grabbed Achilles' sword, the heavy metal summoning for him to release it, use and strike upon the enemy. Patroclus glanced once more at Achilles, the older man's face masked with a troubled look. With the same extremity and evasively slink and sneak, he made his way out of the tent, closing the flap from the warm air conducted inside. He breathed a sigh of relief and staggered back to his own tent. A rustle made him spin around, hand on sword hilt. Up in the hills, a small flame could be seen, the torch bright with exhilaration. Patroclus squinted, making out the dark, vexed eyes, the locks of dark curls.

He lingered in the spot in the open, stubbornly staring at the Prince of Troy before turning and strutting back into the tent. Aldreana had not moved, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Patroclus hid the armor and sword under an extra blanket, settling back into the tent. As dawn soon approached his heart bounced up and down with acceleration, the quickening pace making Patroclus stir uneasily. Aldreana's soft touch as she shivered and drew to his body made him relax. He kissed her forehead softly.

"I promise Aldreana."


	15. Dawn's Bloodred Rise

**Chapter 14: Dawn's Bloodred Rise**

I stirred silently, breathing heavily as I shifted my position. Warm skin wrapped around mine and hands enveloped me in protection. I opened my eyes, facing a drifting Patroclus. His eyelashes were laid lightly on his face, a lock of blond hair moving with each breath of air that escaped his lips. I smiled, pulling back the hair and placing it behind his ear. My hand grazed over his cheek, lips, coming down to rest on his chest. I snuggled deeper in his arms, words forming in my head. Whispered at first and filled with a grief sense of unjust, it slowly became strong and hopeful. The words flowed breathlessly off my tongue, the language of the Ancients used so many years ago.

"Dey ly daon, swaythone layto, (Oh my love, worry not,)

Nay lay pere unfreaer. (Your time has come.)

Poll nay whean, poll nay quel, (Life your shield, life your sword,)

Byth toun fore seth deonth, (Walk into the battle high,)

Qy fore sona emere un bearqol. (As the sun begins to rise,)

Whin ill qy di goneia, (You will walk with dignity.)

Whin ill leil un caron defryum, (You will rise to power beneath,)

Seth daon layke nay fallyon. (The love inside your heart.)

Dey ly daon, e ill tianuth, (Oh my love, I will remain,)

Forsanoth wi nay bagun, (Waiting for your return,)

Fore vanson ji nay gayfon, (The blood of your enemy,)

Taintuns le layto, e lee nay coln, (Haunts me not, I see your face.)

Rufonds san hes, dion san kares, (Wounds and tears, trials and fears,)

E ill jiame fors wi whin. (I will always wait for you.)

Seth sona emere un dathe, (The sun begins to set,)

Le seth vanson yelth to seth belontha. (And the blood shows in the sky.)

Dey ly daon, swaythone layto, (Oh my love, worry not,)

Nay lay pere unfreaer. (Your time has come.)

Qy fore sona emere un bearqol, (As the sun begins to rise,)

Whin ill qy di goneia. (You will walk with dignity.)

Seth sona emere un dathe, (The sun begins to set,)

Le seth vanson yelth to seth belontha. (And the blood shows in the sky.)

Dey ly daon, e ill tianuth. (Oh my love, I will remain.)"

Patroclus fluttered his eyes, breathing with quick, nervous breaths across to me. Stroking his hair, I repeated the words, again and again to ease his worry. I carried on the role that I had once played, imploring for the fight not wanted, yet destined to arrive. It was impassable, I couldn't escape this moment and nether could Patroclus. My eyes grew heaving and I soon fell back into the peaceful sleep, my heart calling out to him and my words ringing in his dreaming mind.

* * *

_I fell into bliss, a world not like my own. Troy seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see; never-ending in its great stonewalls. As I tried to chase after it, my heart grew wearier as Hector's gaze cut into mine like a thousand daggers. Agamemnon's laugh haunted me and the sky was blood red. A body, limb and withered, appeared in the sand. The laughter and dark eyes quelling me, with numb fingers I edged to the body, rolling it unto its side. His eyes were glazed, blue as sky but filled with death. His lips, cracked and bleeding were shaped in an expression of horror and agony, locked forever in the position. His face was covered in sand and his throat a clotted piece of skin and blood mixing in one searing slash across his neck. His black armor was torn and tattered, the stomach torn in two. I gasped, covering a hand on my mouth and diverting my eyes. His face terrorized me for eternity, the outcomes of warfare. Hector suddenly laughed at me, pointing a finger at me from the gates of Troy. The wall seemed to rise higher and higher, just out of my reach, the protection and guidance dryly scorning me. Agamemnon's shadow cast itself across the body, the dagger tip raised and aimed. Spinning around, I screamed as the dagger came down, breaking my flesh._

_

* * *

_I yelled out loud, springing up from my spot on the makeshift bed. Throwing myself into the air, arms grabbed me and pulled me back down. I sobbed into his chest, the tears rolling down his flesh. He shushed me, comforting and consoling me. I was gasping in horror; my eyes wide and staring back into the glazed eyes.

"Aldreana, Aldreana…" his voice cooed and coaxed me to look up. I caught my breath, looking into Patroclus's eyes. They warmed me from the chilling nightmare. Patroclus had a look of puzzlement, at the same time contorted in a rush of troubled feelings to see me so distraught. "Shhhh… it was a dream Aldreana, it's not real." My wide eyes blinked wildly, looking around at the tent, the swords, the shields, and my discarded bag and protruding hilt of my brother's dagger. My fingers were tapping everything, to the very cheeks of his face as he wiped my eyes. "What did you see?"

I calmed down, slowing my breathing till my body relaxed, the violent shakes and tremors leaving. "Of all the things in life to live, war is not one of them. I saw Hector, ridiculing me from the walls, and a body, mangled and disoriented, his eyes piercing into my very soul. And then there was Agamemnon, his knife stabbing into my heart, killing me as Hector and him laughed with amusement." I shuddered violently, creeping into his arms. He patted my back, rubbing my cold shoulders and gently grazing over the scars.

"It's over Aldreana, you're safe."

* * *

Patroclus woke with a start, Aldreana hunched over on her side, her face a look of peace and serenity. Patroclus rubbed his aching, tired temple when a soft drumming sound came to his ears. Quickly he sat up, gathering Aldreana's limb arms and lifting them off him. Tearing off his dirty tunic, he dressed quickly in his armor, all the while staring at the bundle of blankets he had horded through last night. His eyes drifted to Aldreana and as he watched her chest move up and down in a serene sleep, his heart grew surer. Rapaciously he tore away the blankets and buckled the black armor to his chest. The helmet, the fine design of the godly appearance made Patroclus's heart swell with a mixture of jealously and an adamant desire to flash the sword and wield the blood. The passion coursed through his veins, the will to reach the outcries and slaughters of men. Patroclus looked through the metal of the helmet, one last gaze falling on Aldreana. _I will return Aldreana…_

The tent flap was thrown aside and with exhilaration Patroclus leaped out into the growing sun, running around his tent and meeting his army. The Myrmidons all jumped in amazement till Patroclus raised his sword. "To Troy!" he boomed in a thunderous voice, his sword flashing with wild intensity in the air. The men all gave exorbitant outcries and Patroclus heart flipped flopped as he looked to his cousin's tent. The thrashing of the drumming became louder. The Greeks made ready and ran over the scorched sand hills, flailing their weapons and rushing to bloodshed. Patroclus raised his weapon and joined after, catching Eudorus's gaze. The man showed a dubious look, but continued on at his master's wishes. They sprinted over the hills, catching the walls of Troy and beating of the hearts becoming more violent. Patroclus could hardly breath, his mind twisting with the fatal hatred towards the enemy, the leader of the Trojans. The one look shared between the two was enough to blaze fire. The fury building inside all night was enough to take even Aldreana's breath away.

The sun was raising and the glinting of armor and weapons was excessive, the only images the eye could see. The Myrmidons continued after Achilles, deep in the caverns of their minds contemplating the sudden change of heart. As the brawling began, the name rang out in all the air, exalting the mighty warrior.

"It's Achilles!" Shouting rang loudly in each of the ears, perhaps not as piercingly as in the leader of the Myrmidons himself. Odysseus stopped in his tracks, breathing a small sign of relief and when Patroclus looked behind him and gave a call of encouragement, Odysseus trampled after in the sand, his men following dutifully behind him. The banging of shields and spears became threatening, ominous and suddenly Patroclus's heart gave a whine of help. Aldreana lying in his bed and his blood smearing in the particles of glass upon the ground. Patroclus threw the thoughts away with a snarl, running faster with a brawling heart towards Hector. The Trojans were a line along the horizon, shinning in the light when the sun glorified the Greeks. Patroclus leaped over a smoking spear, the end catching his ankle but he cared not. Hector halted suddenly, watching the man come up quickly with the rest of the pitiful army after. His eyes warmed in a smile of glee and he sprinted towards the leader of the Myrmidons, the Trojans running after.

The armies met in a state of vicious battle, blood spraying instantly into the air, slashing weapons and impassable feelings, each wishing the desire of seeing the other vanquished and obliterated. Hector saw out of the corner of his eye Achilles moving with an unbeatable grace, agility and swiftness. His heart clenched and gave way to Aldreana once more, wishing to have her back within the golden walls. He stabbed a man in the gut, yanking out his sword and coming for Achilles. The man's back was turned and as Hector raised his sword did another arrow come flying by. Achilles spun and caught the arrow against his sword, the blade ringing as the arrow ricocheted and flew in an opposite direction. Hector hid his amazement, the move mimicked when the spear was thrown at the temple that brought down his most trusted advisor. He knew who this man was, and he wanted nothing more than to see him choke his own blood so he could smile down at him.

Patroclus hotly felt his arrogance rise as he shifted his arms in his sword, his wrists aching from the power plucked arrow that he deflected. Hector stopped for a second, then advanced on Patroclus. The Greeks behind him gathered in a circle likewise did the Trojans behind their leader. Patroclus wanted so much to declare Aldreana his, to watch the face of Hector fall into denial and shambled glory. But he kept his mouth shut as Hector swung at him. Patroclus met the sword, watching Eudorus and Odysseus push through the crowd. He smiled beneath the blood-dripping helmet, already imaging the moment when the helmet was torn away, the wind catching his hair and exposing him to the armies. He'd be the most remembered man of the war, even above Achilles himself. He threw his weight on the man and Hector was thrown back, Patroclus bending his knees and his sword low and ready for the kill. Hector came for him again and Patroclus swung with agility, ducking down beneath the weapon and spinning back up to catch Hector's back. Managing to break skin, he watched Hector wince as his arm bled furiously. But the prince fought back, defending his honor and throwing Achilles back into the Greeks. As Achilles stepped back out with an infuriated glare, Hector caught a glimpse of his face.

He blinked in surprise, was the man not Achilles? But the soldier took the confusion as a distraction and thrust his sword out. Hector took a huff of air; not believing his own caught attention. Angry with himself, he began hacking at the air, swinging his brad blade at Achilles. It was almost as if the man laughed at him from beneath the helmet, aggravating Hector more. The cheers were for the other man, the Trojans watching with a dubious smirk as their prince met up with the legend-holding hero of the age. As Patroclus spun around again, his heart and giving way lungs flung out for Aldreana once more. He imagined her horrified face, her tears. His heart clung to her as he spun around, catching Hector's blade and as he turned again he imagined her scream, ringing in his ears, followed quickly by the soothing song from his dreams, her lullaby.

Hector's blade flashed blood. The other man became immobilized for a single second, enough time for Hector to watch his blade slide out from the throat. A hushed silence fell in the air as Achilles was bent back and slowly did he fall to the ground, his dirty hands and blood soaked body becoming limb. The sword dangled from his hands for a few seconds and then fell. Hector's chest heaved up and down as he tore of his helmet and looked down upon the defeated hero. He gave a small smile as he bent down. The Greeks all shook heads in incredibility, Odysseus giving a weak choke and the bright-eyed blue man shaking in violent tremors, his eyes bulging from inside his head. Hector gave a smug drop of his sword, throwing it carelessly with his helmet to the ground, the items sinking into the sand. He dropped to his knees with the ringing of his men echoing in his ears, buffing out his heart in pride. He grabbed hold of the cold helmet and lifted it.

A gasp was sent through the air at the choking, moaning man. His piercing blue eyes were filled with disbelief and horror as he choked on his own blood that came spilling out of his mouth. He looked up at Hector with distain and repulsion. Hector's mouth was left agape as he gazed down at the boy. His mind flashed to the night before as he met the eyes of the young man who held Aldreana's hands, protecting her with all his heart. Achilles' helmet suddenly became scorching hot in Hector's hands and he threw it aside, rubbing his fingers on his blood drenched armor. His chest still heaving for air, the groans and gurgles of the slowing dying boy were sweeping and haunting his mind. He bowed his head in remorse, his heart breaking in two, and a sorrow that would stay the rest of his life. The man tried to swallow, unable to do so wincing in pain, as he died a slow and painful death. The older man with equally blue eyes was crying slightly, whereas Odysseus had his head bowed as he knuckled his eyes. Hector looked up to the sky. _Not this!_ His mind yelled in torment. _Why this, so young a life!_

The groans and gurgles were eating away Hector's heart as he grabbed his sword with numb fingers. The blade shook violently in his hands as he lifted the blade in the air, the blood staining forever his heart. He brought the blade down on the boy's stomach, giving a distressed cry of pain. The boy took a startled breath and then instantly died, his eyes lifting to heavens. They seemed suddenly at peace. Sheathing his blade, he stumbled with a weary mind to Odysseus.

"Enough for one day," Hector declared in desolation. Odysseus numbly nodded, his eyes not taken away from the dead young man lying in the sand. Hector looked to his men, who shared nothing close to the feelings wringing away at his heart, twisting it in agony. "To Troy!" He bellowed. Odysseus suddenly caught his arm, the king's eyes not looking up to Hector's.

"That was his cousin," he said grimly, the denunciation in his voice sealing Hector's fate. Hector looked to the young man and bit hard on his tongue. He bowed his head to Odysseus and walked away with his men, trotting alone in a sea of torment and much needed retribution laid upon him, poking at his back and mocking him with offensive ridicule. Eudorus kneeled down in the wet sand next to Patroclus, closing the boy's eyes. With a look of hatred never seen of felt before, Eudorus glared at Hector, though his face was twisted in blame.

"We were going to sail home today." His words not to be repeated nor explained, Odysseus knew that had that been true, Aldreana would be half way to Greece by now. He nodded grimly, his eyes unable to move from the boy.

"I don't think anyone's going home now," he retorted. Eudorus took a deep sigh, stroking Patroclus's head affectingly, caringly. He bit hard on his lip as he couldn't even began to think of the words to say to Aldreana when she stepped out of that tent, much less Achilles. Odysseus left the man where he was and Myrmidons too, calling to his own men and the rest of the Greeks. "Back to the ships!" he hollered. The men obeyed unquestioningly, all taking one thankful look at Patroclus, giving merit that it wasn't them choking helplessly. Odysseus looked once more at Eudorus, but the broken man could not be consoled. His heart gnawed within him as he walked away, shaking his head dourly and looking to the sky. Will this war never end?

* * *

I heard the approaching footsteps in the sand, the diminished ringing of battle finally fading from my ears. The trudge of the men was heavy. I felt a sense of agony flowing through the hearts. In midst them all I felt Eudorus, eaten away by a throbbing, excruciating impairment. I sat up lightly in the bed, my once aching body now refreshed, stepped quietly out of the bed, then sitting back down with impatience and waiting for Patroclus to enter. But the men were gathered around the tent opposite of the young man's, all heads held high but with not pride. I remained where I was, the blowing of tent flap behind me not coming yet to my senses.

"My lord… Achilles!" Eudorus's shout was meek, filled with a ceaseless distraught. The swish of the tent flap admitted Achilles to my mind. Stricken suddenly, I rushed out of the tent. Achilles looked up at me as he scratched his head and then back down, not meeting Eudorus. I watched Eudorus's back straighten. Stiffen as if he himself felt my presence. Achilles was still dressed in his dark blue robes, barely dressed and suitable for my eyes, but I cared not. I quickly scanned the men for Patroclus, but their haunted eyes made me look back to Achilles.

"You defied my orders and led the men into battle," Achilles said loftily. Eudorus bowed his head, stifling almost a sob before looking back up. My heart warped in ambiguous feelings.

"No my lord, we thought you did," Eudorus answered in a misery filled whisper. I gave a gasp and spun round to look for him. His dead blue eyes penetrated through closed eyelids and the men that tried to hide him desperately and pierced into my heart.


	16. Honoring Thy Love

**Chapter 15: Honoring Thy Love**

"No my lord, we thought you did." The words sank into me and beat away at my heart. With a gasp I looked up at Achilles, whose face had grown grave as he desperately looked around. A hand was clutched to my mouth as my stomach rolled endlessly, my mind shriveling in disgust. I continued to shake my head, not believing and wishing the dream to end, but the shock was too great.

"Where's Patroclus?" Achilles dared to utter. My knees shook violently, my chest giving way to sobs. Achilles looked at the swarm of men. "Patroclus!" he shouted. I spun around, begging to see the young man part from the crowd. But instead the men backed away. His eyes haunted me, the blood collected at his gut and throat, his closed eyes already locked on cold skin. I screamed, spinning back around and falling to my knees.

"We thought he was you my lord," Eudorus explained. Achilles came down upon the man, swiping him with the back of his hand. Eudorus collapsed on the ground, looking over his shoulder straight at me. His eyes begged for forgiveness. Curled in a ball, I sobbed, panting for breath, as tears drilled own my cheeks.

"Where is he?" My eyes traveled back to the litter where Patroclus's body was held, the men carrying it setting it down softly on the ground. My stomach churned as I grasped what was real, my mind reeling in incredulity. _Do not worry Aldreana. I will always protect you. I will return._

"He's dead my lord." Achilles huffed a breath, bubbling in rage. He growled loudly, and placed his foot on Eudorus's throat, pushing hard into the man's jaw.

"You killed him!" Achilles accused. Eudorus choked for breath and for a split second I imagined Patroclus doing the same.

"Could you not see his face?" I shouted, screaming at the top of my lungs. "Could you not tell the difference?" I yelled furiously. My mind blocked what I thought was unreal, when it was clearly shown to me as if it was stone, his stiffened body feet from me. Achilles pushed harder on Eudorus's neck. The tent flap lifted and out came the maiden with brown hair of curls, her soft cheeks and petite frame. Briseis grabbed Achilles' arm, trying desperately with all of her gathered strength to stop the man from crushing Eudorus. Achilles removed his foot and in turn grabbed Briseis by the throat, lifting her into the air.

"Hector killed him my lord." Eudorus rose slightly, his pale face ineffable. Briseis choked as Achilles suddenly realized whom he held by the throat. He carelessly dropped her to the ground and walked away, grabbed a spear and throwing it out of his path. Briseis watched him leave and I saw a feeling never seen by the priestess, it was love.

Eudorus held his head in his hands, weeping quietly. He looked up between fingers at me. My eyes were still brimming with tears, my head exploding in pain. "Aldreana…" he began. I barely gave him a moment's thought. Whipping out my hand I reached for the broken spear point half buried in sand from last night's escapade. I lunged for him, the point aimed at his heart.

"You killed him! You killed Patroclus!" Eudorus leaped out of the way as two men grabbed me by the arms, pulling me back as I thrashed wildly to stab at the man. I cried loudly, screaming in a chaotic flash of spear and arms to be set free, but the men refused. "Let me go!" I screamed. My heart broke and my arms became weak and limb. I dropped the substituted knife and the men instantly let go of my arms, backing away from me with flippant glances. I crawled in the sand, my mind groggy and dazed. With eyes filled with repugnance I glared at Eudorus and then at Briseis, who held her head high with no notion of my presence. She barely recognized me through my fury and tears. I yelled out loud, my hands gripping the sand in death's grip before doubling over and vomiting with sickness into the sand. I collapsed back, unaware of the hands that lifted me off out of the sand and back into the warm tent, wrapping me into the blankets of his.

* * *

Hector swayed on the tower, looking out into the fields of Troy. Biting hard on his lip, tears came to his eyes. He clutched the sword of the boy, the sword of Achilles' cousin that had been tossed aside when the body was dragged away. They left it half buried and Hector took up the reasoning to grab it, claim it. He glanced at the stained blade and futilely wiped at it with the end of his tunic. The wind caught his hair and hid his sorrow filled face as Paris climbed up the steps, standing next to his brother with hands dutifully behind his back.

"I heard the battle went well today," Paris alleged. Hector turned and glared at his brother, sending the young man into silence, diverting his eyes from the growing fury of his older brother. Hector shifted in his spot, the armor around his chest and legs becoming unbearable. He unbuckled the chest plate throwing it aside along with the sword. Paris glanced at the sword for a moment. His eyes glinted with lust at the weapon. Hector sensed the sudden need and deprecatingly began scorning Paris with it.

"What you hear is nothing. I killed a boy today, and he was too young." Paris frowned at his brother.

"Who's to say how young you have to be to fight?" Paris added smugly. Hector sardonically laughed, pushing Paris against the wall.

"I say when it is too young for a boy to fight. Your life becomes corrupted by it, filled with only one meaning and that is to kill. Mark my words Paris, if I live the day to see you lift a sword and call it pride then I hope you burn in hell. Think of Helen when she sees you fall to the sword, and what if she is never there to see it." Hector could only imagine Aldreana's face when Patroclus was declared dead. Paris took on an anguished filled face, the aching in his wounded leg suddenly prickling. "I never want to see you fight Paris. When you become king-"

"You are to be king, not I," Paris rejected the words. But Hector remembered the face Odysseus gave, the look that somehow, they both knew when his end was. He shook his head, still gripping Paris' shirt and shoving him against the wall.

"When you become king, promise me war is not the answer and that you will be exalted for you words, your good deeds and not the countries you conquer or the men that wait for death on your sword." Hector could picture the blood spilling out of the young man's mouth. "Love Helen with all your heart and keep your children by your side always." His little boy was in his arms, Andromache smiling from the bed she lay on. Hector let the image fad and smiled slightly. Paris pondered on his brother's change of demeanor, but still nodded his promise. Hector nodded his own merit. "Thank you my brother."

Paris watched Hector pick up the sword and leave him alone on the wall. He gave a huffed and condescending sigh, bending over on the edge of the wall and looking out to the Greeks camp. There were the beginnings of the burning towers, the simple made wood burials of those killed in battle. He began to wonder what life was like in the battle, the strokes that cut blood and the warm metal of the blade in your hands, or the twang of the bowstring. He felt his fingers flex as he pictured the bow, the point of the arrow. He smiled slightly, till the outcries of carnage and tragedy of those lost forever crept into his mind. His leg twitched again painfully. Paris winced, rubbing his thigh as he walked after his brother's steps, all the while still believing his brother's words.

* * *

My stomach still ached when I woke, empty and pitifully churning once again. I opened my eyes, the tent spinning around me. As I sat up, there came a quiet movement of footsteps from across the tent. Briseis sat in the idle chair, propping a bowl of cold water on her hip. She smiled at me sweetly as she stood and shambled over to me. There was a slight bruise where Achilles had grabbed her so forcefully, but she seemed unaffected by it. She gave me another warm smile to which the first I ignored, this time I scowled back at her. Her imploring eyes made me want to scream.

"Traitor," I whispered under my breath. Briseis gathered a cloth in her hands, soaking the rag and edging over to me. I slapped her hand away, the water on my lips making my stomach heave itself in me. She gave me a peevish look, annoyed with my behavior.

"And the same can't be said about you?" she acquired. I averted my eyes; sinking back into the fluff Patroclus claimed a pillow.

"Hector let me free from his service," I retorted with.

"Before or after he found out where you were here the whole time." Surprised by her words, so sharp and serious, unlike the flamboyant words she normal uttered to speak, I turned around and leaned on my elbows to face her. Tears came to my eyes again, as if a river was flowing from my heart, as I looked at everything in the tent, down to the black tunic. Briseis offered the damp cloth. I bitterly took it, wiping my clammy face with it.

"He can't be gone," I whispered, though the statement was useless since the appearance of Eudorus was plain and Patroclus's body was being cleaned at that very moment. Briseis lowered her eyes, unable to help me cope with such a loss. She quickly picked up the cloth once I discarded it and dismissed herself quickly from my sight, though I heard her and saw her out of the corner of my eye. She had aimlessly singled out a spot on the chair to drive her nail into, the welts and cuts on her face still magnifying her sweet young beauty. When I looked at her I felt my heart grow with jealously that someone so simple had one the heart of Achilles. Surly he found more sensibility out of me, more reason to smile at my face, wince when I scorned and tear the clothes from my body. As the thoughts progresses, so did I realize I thought of all that Patroclus had done to me.

My body held a state of numbness it could not escape from. Everything around me seemed unreal, useless and nothing consoled me. Briseis had nothing more to say, but smiled whenever I looked at her. My fingers beat against the hilt of my sword. My eyes swelled, growing puffy and red and my cheeks were flushed to the point where most girls would hate their appearance, and I on the other hand cared not. The dream kept replaying again and again in my head, his face caught in horror, his begging voice asking for forgiveness amidst the laughter scolding me in the sweltering heat of the sun on the beach. I felt betrayed, by Hector's hand dies the one I grew to love. My heart took on the cold, unforgiving state it once did. It melted to no words Briseis said, as had it done when my father's last breath was stolen by my hand. I couldn't put my retribution on Hector. Enough death had obsessed me. But the sense that somehow Hector needed to suffer by my hand, whether it be the tears I laid at his feet or the knife I could throw, I knew there would be revenge.

"You truly loved him." Briseis broke through my thoughts. My icy heart turned vile as I looked at her. Her big brown eyes needed not an explanation as she pursed her lips at me. Slowly she took a breath and then heaved a great sigh. "Such things that war brings out of us," she commented. I lifted an eyebrow up at her. "Aldreana, when you came to serve me at the palace, you had one man to call companion and that was Myles. And deep down in your heart when you looked at Myles you saw your brother. I know that. You obeyed Hector as your prince and as the father you wished had placed his being into your heart, though deeper feelings had grown as time developed. You treated me with respect and I must admit Aldreana, of all the handmaids I have had, you have been the most upright and just, most tolerable and liking. I can always count on you." Her words made me blush slightly, though my heart was still stiff and unsaved by her pensive thoughts. I allowed her continued, deep in my mind thanking her for the compliments.

"Never had I seen your heart leap for a man, never true love. But with Patroclus, you have learned to find irresistibility in a man." She stood, grabbing the bowl and towel. She brushed aside a knotted lock of hair, smoothing it against her cheek. "I just hope your heart doesn't remain as cold to warfare and men as it used to." She dismissed herself from my company. Leaving me to ponder over her words, repeat them again and again in my mind, over and over till it grew clear. My mind shattered and instantly I wept on the sheets, gathering the covers around me and shaking violently.

Eudorus's pleading eyes flashed back in my mind and I slowly rose to my feet, walking stately and dazedly out of the tent. The camp was quiet, even the Greeks that surrounded the Myrmidons. They seemed to sense what had happened. The whispers ate away at my soul as the men backed away from me, all fearing the blade belted at my waist. They wished not to upstart my anger and I wished not to give them a reason to do so. Achilles was still missing and Eudorus crept out of one tent, his gaze falling on me. His eyes instantly filled with guilt, responsibility for what had happened. I walked slowly up to the tent, ignoring Eudorus. His forceful, strong arm grabbed mine sharply, whipping out from underneath his tunic.

"Aldreana, please don't go in there," he advised sternly. I refused to listen and smoothly ducked in under the tent flap. The inside was dark, moist with the warm water and the small fire in the center, the curls of smoke rising into the hole in the center of the ceiling. Two men dabbed towels in boiling water, barely passing me a second glance once they saw me enter. A bundle wrapped in white caught me attention and as I stepped through the fog from the water and sweltering heat I saw him, cold and pale, losing all sense of heroism and valor. His face still remained glorious, handsome yet and I bit hard on my tongue to stop the tears. Eudorus followed after me. "Aldreana please, this is no place for you." He meant the death, the grief that had stricken my heart. Heartily, almost frightening for me, I cackled loudly. The men looked at me with surprise and Eudorus shrank back.

"If only you knew what I have endured," I retorted back angrily. Eudorus stopped in his tracks, lowering his opposing hand and falling into a pivotal heartache. I faltered my steps, loitering in the door way before stepping in closer. The men cleaning his neck and bare chest seemed uneasy by my presence and when I offered my help, they looked at each other with bemused looks, finally relenting to my hard glare. With shaky fingers I placed the cloth along his tattered throat, slowly sweeping away the blood with cloth and tears. Eudorus crept in, kneeling down next to me and softly rubbing my back in comfort.

"You cannot be blamed Eudorus," I exclaimed. I heard his gruff grunt, his revile against himself growing with my pity. "You knew not who he was."

"On the contrary Aldreana, I believed I saw his face when he looked at me." I glanced with an absurd look behind me. Eudorus's eyes took on a state of reverie. "He seemed to glorify himself, smiling at me and yet with eyes imploring me to tell you. To ask for your forgiveness should anything happen." Eudorus took a long stare at the body. He gently laid a hand on the young man's chilled wrist. I shrank away, trembling at the sight of even scrapping a cloth to cleanse his wounds and here was Eudorus touching his bare flesh. I flinched, hiding my disgust. Eudorus sensed my discomfort and instantly stopped.

"He wanted to be remembered, well he is. He will be burned in glory, his name remembered." Eudorus gave a weak smile to me, to which I gave my own. Turning back to the throat, I was grateful for Eudorus's words, which took my mind off of the body whose soul was lost. "You're very brave to be doing this," Eudorus commented.

"You have to be in times like this," I replied. I soaked the cloth in the bowl, the water turning a light crimson. Choking as I fought back tears, I turned to the chest, which was hideous gash in his belly, though I realized not deep. The armor however showed differently, severed harshly by Hector's sword. I brushed my fingers over lightly, stifling a scream when my hand almost sunk into the stab in his stomach.

"Aldreana stop, must you torture yourself so?" Eudorus swiped away the cloth and tossed it back into the bowl, grabbing my hands. He stared at me for some time, contemplating why I even did what I did. "Patroclus would never have wanted such a thing for you to deal with." I nodded, understanding fully though not taking in all the words, my mind blank and desolate.

"Eudorus, I lost my dagger," I whined suddenly. The statement perplexed Eudorus. "It's gone." Tears rolled down my cheeks as I cradled my head in my hands, sobbing harshly with sharp breaths and a broken heart. Eudorus knew it was not his freedom to wrap his arms around me and hold me, but yet he did so anyways as he calmed me and I didn't shrink back from his touch.

* * *

The nights didn't tinkle with their lustful shine as they used to. And yet to me there seemed to be more stars, more numerous as though the night itself filled with those killed in battle. The small, shamble of towers were not as many as other nights, but still held a haunting meaning to those that circled them. The Myrmidons and I gathered around the tower holding Patroclus, who was wrapped in white cloth and placed with his weapons and armor. Achilles grimly took the torch offered to him, climbing the sickly ladder that creaked under him up to the pillar of wood. He wrapped his arms around his cousin's face, untying the shell necklace encompassing the frail, shattered neck. I had my head bowed, not daring to look up as he kissed his cousin's forehead, setting two gold coins on his eyes and setting the pile of wood ablaze. The others followed and soon the camp was illuminated in fires of death.

Through the dancing orange was Agamemnon, standing high on the hill. I glared contemptuously at him and he gladly returned the favor. Anger flared through me and with clenched fists I rounded up on the man. Eudorus grabbed me by the arms, pulling me back to the crowd by Briseis. She held my hand, her nimble fingers squeezing against mine for comfort. When Agamemnon saw me impassable, controlled by Eudorus and Briseis did he uttered the words.

"That boy just saved the war." His blunt words made me snarl furiously. I jumped out from Briseis's grip, flinging myself towards the king. A gleaming golden body stepped in front of me, shoving me back. With blazing eyes of enragement I looked up to Achilles. His stern expression made me back away into Eudorus, Achilles turning his back to me and claiming Briseis as his own, wrapping his arm around her waist. I watched his hand float breathlessly down her back and instantly felt my heart sweep heatedly with jealousy. The pillar bearing Patroclus suddenly burst into a group of sparks that flew into the air, half of the wood cracking and falling into the sand, where it slowly burned itself out. Unable to think straight, I walked towards the fire, whispering his name over and over again in my mind. Eudorus quickly scooped me in his arms, carrying me away from the group and setting me down in the sand.

"Get away from me." I clouted his hand away. His hurt expression remained as Achilles stalked up to me. Through blurred vision I saw Briseis next to him, her head cocked to the side with a sad face. "Don't you all see? It's my entire fault. If I hadn't come back, he never would have had to make the promise to Agamemnon risking his life to save mine. He would have been safe and he would have gone home securely. It's my fault, it's all my fault." I rocked myself back and forth, feeling Achilles' eyes on my back. He stared at me coldly, no rueful expression on his face.

"Without you Aldreana?" Briseis's voice cut into my thoughts. "How would he return home happy without you?" Eudorus held the same benefactor while Achilles barely gave me a passing glance. Eudorus sighed greatly when I showed no comprehension. Briseis frowned and walked away back towards the tent, Eudorus some distance away. Achilles remained behind, his face luminous in front of the burning bonfire. He kneeled down in the sand next to me, placing a forgiving hand on my shoulder. His arrogant eyes were filled with misery, heating with the revenge that would spur him for battle tomorrow.

"Patroclus was the only part left of my family. The rest was war, battles and the lives that I had to live with in the pitiful politics of kings. But Patroclus, he relived with me a memory I never thought would be uttered again." I could tell the words were a struggle for Achilles, the man who never showed any sincerity in his loving and caring feelings. It was strange, awkward to see his so close to tears as he spoke. "I didn't want him to come along, but he insisted and Odysseus kept nagging and finally I gave in, I acceded to his request. And when he grinned with that mischievous smile, I felt that the right choice had been made. But then I was bothered by the image that I could see him fall. I refused to let him win me over again." The man was full of conceit, unable to give into his mistakes with an open heart, but rather with a clenched and disproving one.

The small collapse of the wood turned our attentions around. His hand was curled in a fist and for a split second the flame lit up the object tucked in his sleeve. I gasped, standing up with wide eyes. Achilles stingily twisted the necklace around his hand, glancing from me to the burning corpse on the platform. I blinked, stealing away the image from my mind. The item was gone.

"He weakened me Aldreana, perhaps one of the only persons that will ever weaken me." Briseis's big eyes bored into my mind, her sweet smile and small figure. "And then there was you, so opposing of me that you reminded me instantly of him, yet he had enough time to learn of my actions, while you took the arrogance and fought back with your own headstrongness." He gave a wicked smile. "It was quite interesting at times."

"Is there a point to this straight forward logic?" I asked bitterly. Achilles licked his lips, hiding his smile mocking my competence to counter him. He shrugged his shoulders indifferently, though his face was showing blatant features.

"If there was I life I would have willingly given him, it would be the chance to fight by my side, our names echoed in our minds and cursed by those we would skewer. And then, I would have him come back, blood thirsty and drenched in the vile filth, to you, where you could strip him away of any hatred and repugnance, any desire for combat." His flourishing words hit me hard as yet another began to blame himself for the misfortune. "Aldreana," he finally said. "I think it's time to go home." I scowled, grudgingly showing that his sudden change of heart froze what feelings I had for him at the moment, any notion of thanks being ripped away. He knew that and accepted that. He nodded to Eudorus, who instantly woke from his gaze into the fire. "Grab your things, Eudorus will see you safely to the wall." My face implored for a better good bye than that from my once hated enemy, but I glanced away. "Maybe we will meet again."

"I'm sure of it my lord, where the murderers and men of conquest will lie when their souls have been sucked from their bodies." Achilles showed a vacant and blank face to my words. I spent long moments staring at the fire, watching and waiting for the glint to come again. The tower continued to collapse, till scattered around the standing upright wood was portions of flame, dancing with the moonlight and the twinkling stars. In the center, underneath the misshapen tower, was one huge raising flame, the immense state of it making me crane my neck over Achilles to see. With one last bow, I bid farewell to the heroic man.

Eudorus kept silent, letting me relive the moments with Achilles and Patroclus in my head, to the very first time I laid eyes on the two men in the runes, watching with compelling and trance filled eyes as they skipped back and forth with their makeshift swords. Walking directly into the only tent I had become familiar with, I took my bag and steel, scanning the room one last time for any hint of my dagger. The last thing I tucked into my bag, shoving it in there with blurred vision was the tunic, the one discarded by him at dawn. I wiped my eyes, smearing the makeup Briseis had offered to put around my eyes and met Eudorus outside.

We walked out of the camp, the waves crashing loudly along the shore, past the temple and to Troy in utterly complete silence. It didn't sooth, nor did it bother, it just was deemed necessary. Every so often was there my sniffle as I sobbed, and then Eudorus's deep grumble of a sigh. His bright eyes were faded and scorched of lust, the starling and exquisite blue dim and gloomy. The wind shifted my hair, drying my cheeks and tangling itself into more knotted curls. His words and promises, pledges and declared love, kept ringing again and again in my head incoherently, with no end and as I realized it, no beginning, they just…were. Eudorus would glance at me very so often, making sure that shock had not permanently taken over my mind.

"Aldreana, you should have seen his face. He died with pride, with a full heart, at the last second, his eyes were lulled into a sense of tranquility." A breeze sharply pulled at us, making me turn back to its direction. Patroclus was the brightest of them burning. "If there is one thing I know about that him it's that he loved you with all his heart. He had no mistaking it, no doubt in his mind that he loved you. When he first saw you come out of below deck with those men," Eudorus smiled as he remembered. "I thought he would certainly kill that man who slashed your back." I nodded, blinking down tears that rode quickly down the wet track on my cheeks and off my chin. The wall was close to us, the flicker of the torches reflecting off the sand. I stopped and Eudorus with me, who looked with an uneasy stare at the wall.

"Aldreana, you made this war all the more worth while for him, and me as well." My feigned smile tugging at the corner so my lips made him happy. "Never change Aldreana, never change." I licked my blistering lips, cracked and dry from hours of crying, my numb and aching head bobbing up and down. Eudorus was swept away into a calm, numb state that bothered me. He dreaded the moment and now that it had finally happened he wanted to be rid of it. He turned swiftly, my hand spinning him sharply back around. My hands clasped around his neck as I buried my face into his shoulder. When finally did he relax to my sudden actions did I back away. I wiped my tears, kissing him on either cheek.

"For your safety, for you health." I whispered. He face flushed slightly, his eyes mixed emotions. I laid my lips softly on his, a tender, yet meaningless kiss of a great affection than friendship. "And for you." Eudorus stiffened while I squared my shoulders, reentering the life I so much thought I had left behind.

* * *

Night grew darker as Hector briskly walked the gardens, pacing back and forth in anxiety, taking every so enough steps to make it to another section, slowly making his way back to his chambers where Andromache sat in a weary mood. _Too young_, he was _too young…_The words were repeated over and over again as Hector took a large stride, his shoulder grazing pass the perfectly cut bush and into a small corner that overlooked the city. A breeze cooled his sweating face, the smoke and heat from the flickering torches sweltering and scalding him. He wiped his forehead, still frantically pacing when a dark figure tore his eyes away. The wind blew the edge of the cloak, hiding the body and face from view. Hector blinked in startled amazement. It's impossible.

"Surely it is not a trick of the light my lord." The voice was sharp, booming with a ferocity filled tone that vexed Hector. He stopped pacing, wondering what power the girl possessed that made her read his thoughts. But then again, he suddenly realized who she was. He carefully edged his way to her, holding out his hand and finally coming face to face with the back of her head, the silky fabric of the cloak clutched in his fingers. He pulled on the hood sharply as she turned around. Brown curls bouncing and circled across her face, her green eyes blazing in the fire, filled with tears. Her cheeks were pale, all life sucked out of them and her face was a mixture of horror and unexplained grace that made Hector's knees knock together. The hood fell limply down Aldreana's face, her features an embodiment of beauty to the world. Her eyes, however, were quenched with a feeling that made Hector's heart spasm in a thousand aches.

"No, it couldn't have been." Aldreana blinked in hilarity. She stepped closer and like a frightened child Hector scrambled back, her face alternating the normal state of power and rule. She was overpowering him, sending him down like a vagrant in the streets. Hector felt his heart tremble violently, his mouth gasping for breath.

"And why not. Who assumed I left because of a soldier who cares nothing but of his own pleasures, who only wants a whore to fill his bed and loves the slaughter of human flesh sprayed right in front of his eyes so he could do nothing more then seethe his teeth at it!" Hector fumbled for words, remembering the stare the young man had penetrated into him the night before. Aldreana, amazed by even herself, chuckled heartily. She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You thought it be Achilles I ran for. When all the world saw us, the Greeks mumbling their drunken words around the camp like fluttering butterflies and all this time you thought it be Achilles, when he cares nothing more than his own name and follows no man." Her face had become ashen again, taking on the unbearable loss once more. She spun on her sandal and looked back out to the city, the burning towers of the Greeks a distant twinkle.

"You loved him Aldreana? Had I known that…" Hector could say no more. Aldreana covered her smile, rolling her eyes.

"You said so yourself that it wouldn't have mattered. Had he only been a young man, only wondering about the outposts of war, curious at heart and brave at soul, what then Hector?" She spun back around. He lowered his hand that was slowly reaching for her shoulder. "It wouldn't have mattered. You killed him," she said bluntly. Unable to hide tears anymore, she let them fall, her words a choking brawl with her mouth. "Could no one see his face?" she screamed out loud, her voice echoing across stonewalls. Hector winced and began to speak, but she cut him off. "Could you not peer through the visor and see innocent eyes free yet from bloodshed and combat, filled with love and kindness? You men and your stupid pride, your damnable lust for bloodshed. I pity you all, even Patroclus, for even I couldn't save him, my own heart lulled by violence." Aldreana spun around, sobbing now with her shoulders shaking. Hector laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"All of us are to blame Aldreana." His dark eyes looked up to the distant camp. "Some more than others." He sighed heavily, his bleak future suddenly clear. "That is why it ends tomorrow, for I face Achilles." Wide eyed, Aldreana spun around, falling to her knees and bending down, looking up at Hector.

"No my lord, you will be killed." Hector yanked on her arms, making her stand back up. Aldreana shivered as his hand cupped around her cheek, caressing her skin. He seemed happy, overjoyed that she was safe in his walls again.

"I pay the price for the lives I have taken" Aldreana continued to shake her head. "No one should have to live life as you do and I swear to you had I known, I would have laid down my sword and spared his life. He was too young Aldreana, no matter how brave or courageous." The compassion he freely shared touched Aldreana, her mouth curving into a weak smile. "If I am to die tomorrow, then so be it, just as long as you are safe now." Tears stained her cheeks as he bowed his head and walked rapidly away. Aldreana gasped when the cool air touched her cheeks again, turning around and watching him go. Her body trembling violently, she sank to her knees, sobbing into her arms as she cradled her rocking body.


	17. A Lost Prince

**Chapter 16: A Lost Prince**

_The warmth surrounded me with an unbearable desire to sink its teeth of fire into my flesh. My eyes snapped open as the dancing flames hollered in my ears with a beckoning, horror filled call. The fire wanted me, but I wouldn't give myself up. Strength uplifted my spirit, taking hold of me as I remembered the face. It was beautiful, with eyes of the deepest ocean, the wave being the grass in the oasis of the face. My mind wondered and for instances I felt the fire take over, burning my skin and filling my lungs with the scent of my own burning flesh. With a hellish voice I heard him speak the words, filling hearts with enragement. My own clenched in fury and a flicker caught my eye as the dagger glinted at me with a clever grin of evil._

_A husky gasp escaped my lips as I lifted a broken, failing arm. I slashed with all my might, all my lust for love came out onto the wood and watched the sparks fly into the air as the wood beneath me collapsed. A spasm of coughs took over my lungs as my back hit the hard sand and with a grunt I purged my mouth with the rotten taste of blood once more, my gut spilling with life's support. My face twisted in revulsion at the metallic taste of my own blood, staining the sand on which I laid on. The pieces of wood around me burned brightly, the great barriers of the tower falling around me with a cascading wave of flame. My mind clung to consciousness as best it could, but soon the weakness of my body and the voice of an angel took over, whisking me away into a world not of this earth. To me, the River Styx was heaven, but still a hindrance to walk into my lover's arms…_

_

* * *

_I woke drowning in my own sweat, shaking violently as I imagined the skin on my arms burnt to black scabs, the blood spilling from my gut, my voice so loud in my ears but inaudible to the world around me. I wavered in the soft covers of my bed as I heaved myself over the end of the bed. My stomach rolled and I felt the revolting taste of vomit coming to the corners of my mouth. I scrabbled out of the bed, catching my breath as my feet paced distinctly back and forth along the floor. My body eventually slowed and relaxed as the vision faded from my mind. Sitting back down on the bed, my fingers brushed cold metal. Filled with shock, I peered down to see Patroclus' sword resting among my soft sheets, beaming in glory. My fingers hung in the air, shaking as they gently grazed the metal. The sword was like a hot ember, and instantly waves of visions and words flooded into my mind, tormenting my spirit.

Throwing my back against the soft sheets, I sunk to the floor, the cold stone my only reassurance, as icy as my heart had turned. I relived all the memories of my brother, my father and lastly my love. It all seemed incoherent, as if my father knew of Patroclus. My brother was stuck in jealousy, all the while wishing to place his dagger in my lover's heart. And Patroclus, with his pride and mischievous grin, stared with a vicious glare at my father. The blood spilled, the laughs echoed and somewhere deeper in this horrific scene was Hector, laying slain under Achilles feet.

"No!" I screamed to myself, leaping to my feet. I changed quickly into the discarded gown from days ago, quickly brushing my tangled hair and reaching for the sword on my bed. My breath stopped short and my hand quivered in its spot in midair. The sword gleamed at me with devil's teeth, sneering with a derisive shimmer. _That boy just saved the war…_Agamemnon's words rang in my ears sharply. I could imagine the blade fall from his hands, sinking into the sand and grit beneath him. And as he looked up, he saw Hector's face.

"Hector!" his distant voice bellowed into the stiff air, the silent wind passing through cooling my trembling face. "Hector!" My lungs were tied in knots as I gazed from my balcony and saw Hector approaching the gates. With a gasp I ran from my room, down the empty passages of the palace, my heart in my stomach and rolling with sickness. I sprinted through the empty, dark hall. It was dank with panic, thick with the rancid smell of uncooked meat, making my stomach flip with a dizzy dance. I stepped quickly out of the palace, the gardens and balconies blocking the sun above me. The city of Troy was spread wide out in front of me, a maze of sandstone homes, ransacked taverns and tall towering buildings. The markets were closed, sheltered by blankets and thick coverings, closed with the news of war. The city, so lively and golden once was now a dreary yellow, dulled by the news of death and the blood spilled across the sand. The doors swung open deliberately by the wind, as if the city itself had died with the unfortunate soldiers of the pervious days of battle.

I bit my lip as a mother grabbed her anxious son, shooing him back into the house. She stood in the doorway for a second, looking around her for any signs of life, any symbol that all that had happened was a dream. Her tired eyes befell on me, and instantly became cold. She glared at me with a contemptuous stare and slammed the door after her, the dust rising and flushing itself in my face. _Betrayer…_

The name whispered in my ears, haunting me. Two soldiers walked by, patrolling the quiet city that had not yet awoken. One looked gravely at me and then looked away. The other bared teeth at me and pointed, shoving his elbow into his partner. The soldier grunted grimly and looked up at me.

"Look, it's the whore Aldreana," the one soldier said. The other remained quiet, giving a quick grunt of a laugh and then looking away. The other soldier followed me, stopping when I passed him and keeping his eyes squarely where he wanted them. "I can see why she gets her reputation." I glared behind me, my body stiffening and yet twitching with excitement when my fingers grazed over the cold handle of my sword. The soldier held out both his hands, beckoning for me with his fingers, curling them and motioning for me to come into his arms. I gave a sly grin. Gripping my sword, I bounded to him. Leaping for the advantage, I pulled the sword right to his throat, keeping it there, as his eyes grew wide.

The other soldier stood quietly, almost stubbornly, a few steps behind the other, waiting for the next action. His ambiguous hands were on his dagger, his fingers licking the smooth hilt with anticipation. "Aldreana…" he gave the warning in a whisper. "He didn't ask for trouble and neither did you." His voice grew with every stressed word and soon people stared coming from their homes to observe. Women gasped at the sight of my fire filled eyes and covered their children from the sight of the blood trickling from the man's throat where my sword slightly tore the flesh. My eyes flashed back to the soldier who breathed deeply, his eyes on the tip of the sword. He glared at me with a hotly, zeal filled glare.

"Next time Iason, make sure your companions can respect those around them. I'm sure their commander would not like to hear of the harassment and commotion they cause," I sneered at the man in front of him who I had caught at bay. His eyes were slits of vexed anger that bubbled up to his lips.

"You are the traitor, you are the harasser!" he spat. "You bed with the enemy and then expect to come back to Troy with open arms. Now the Prince is doomed because of you!" A stunned silence hushed all the children. Suddenly eyes, millions of them, were staring at with imploring glares. I sucked in a breath, feeling my eyes water and my knees quake. Iason bowed his head, unable to look me directly in the eye. I saw Myles' face. The brothers share the same opinion about my choices. The sword I held slid from the man's neck to the ground. The man instantly grabbed his throat, rubbing away the warm blood and stumbling back. With an expansive wave of his arm, he looked up to all the bystanders. "Behold the betrayer-"

"That's enough!" Iason spoke out. His long curling brown hair tumbled into his eyes as he grabbed the shoulders of his companion and shoved him to the ground. The man lurched forward, tripping on loose stones but catching himself before falling to the ground. Iason unsheathed his sword. His eyes were hard and cold as he glared at the people who circled us. "Let this war remind you all of the lessons learned, the choices made and the lives sacrificed." His eyes went from me to the other soldier and back again. I saw them soften slightly, Iason's nimble hands sheathing the sword. He held a hand out for his companion, who slapped it away and stood up justly on his own. The sincerity of Iason's voice startled me, quite different from his normal flamboyant attitude towards life. He faced me, though his voice was loud enough to be heard by all the watchers around us. "Sometimes the choices we make are for the better and sometimes it is because that is all we have." His eyes softened with forgiveness. He nodded his leave, taking the other brusque soldier with him. My look of surprise made Iason give a wicked smile, something that separated him from his brother, Myles.

"Hector!" the uproarious call made all heads turn to the gates that loomed not far from us. There stood Andromache, standing with the swaddling clothes of the babe in her arms. The cries of their son echoed in the streets, softened only by Hector muffling the babe with whispers of condolence. My heart withered in pain seeing the child, not even passing a summer's eve. He would never know of his father's fate. Hector cradled the child's head in his hands once more, embracing his wife before hefting the shield and facing the gates. Andromache sobbed softly, running quickly up into the tower steps to the place balcony overlooking the wall and the vast sea ahead of Troy. Hector heaved a deep sigh, his chest rising and lowering with a tired soul. Tears flowed from my cheeks. I sheathed the sword and ran to his feet.

"No!" I wailed, falling to my knees and grabbing the edge of his armor, the sandals of his shoes at my lips. My tears washed away the sand from his feet. Hector stiffened, bending down and looking at me with an expressionless gaze. Seeing me weep at his feet made his face melt into guilt and remorse. He knelt down beside me, wrapping a hand around my slim shoulders. "Please don't go my lord," I sobbed, my face contorted into a frown spilling with tears. Hector grimly clenched his jaw at me, looking down at me with humble eyes. Nothing would stop him. Achilles echoed through the air, making me cringe. His fingers cupped around my chin, making me look into the bright sunlight up into his glorious face.

"Aldreana, if I had known who he was, I would never have killed him." I shook my head, knowing the statement was false, that in the heat of battle both men I love dearly would have stilled sliced at each other. "I would have spared him, but still call him enemy." Hector's words resembled the temperamental man that used to shout at me, instead of the broken prince who now had no other path but the one chosen for him by the actions of those around him. And in that circle stood Patroclus, Paris, Helen and me, all faced with a decision we knew not of the outcome. "If I had known of your danger by keeping you in Sparta I would never have left you there." Tender footsteps crunched the sand behind us. Hector looked up with a loftily glare, then his face was filled with a lush sentimental grace. I cheekily refused to turn, knowing whom the presence was.

"Aldreana," I looked up into his dark, loving eyes with a heart of stone. "You are to watch over her now. That is the last order I give you as your Prince with you as my spy." My mouth gaped open as his sand caked lips placed a soft kiss on my forehead, the kiss of farewell. I bowed my head, trying to hide the snarl that crossed my face. But Hector recognized it. "Must everything make your heart so bleak Aldreana, so hard?" I looked up at him, with the same sly eyes from before. It made me contemplate whether or not his last order would be followed or not. "Does nothing make you the girl I saved all those years ago?" his question was filled with a blatant love.

Tears in my eyes, I stared deeply into his. "Do I fill you with rapture my lord?" I whispered. Hector's face was plastered with sudden memory and lust. His forehead pressed against mine, he let a soft moan withdraw from his lips.

"Your spell stranger, is one I can never pass," he whispered with lust. I looked back up into his eyes, our faces close.

"Only Patroclus and your presence with me will make me the person I once was my lord. I wanted to save my protector, my savior and in doing so have led him to his death." My cold eyes pierced through Hector, my words cutting deep into his heart. He stood and looked down on me with a lofty gaze. "I beg you not to go my lord, but no such action can already change the betrayal I have created." I gave my soul to Hades that second, wishing with all my might to change the course of the past in order for the future to be rewritten. Hades laughed in my face, mocking me.

Hector hefted up the shield, his face absent of any feelings that were there a moment ago, and gave Helen one last farewell with a sweep of his head in a proud bow and then looked back down at me. "You have betrayed no one Aldreana. Take these words as words from Troy and from me as your Prince." I raised myself up to my feet, shaking underneath the hot sun. The cold sword at my side was blazing with metallic power, winking in the sunlight at Hector. He gazed down at it, his mouth twitching. "He remains at your side," he assumed. I gave a week smile.

"Yet you shall remain the only man who has power over me. My lord." I bowed my head, raising it back up to watch Hector walk out the gates, a last quick look over his shoulder focused on me. He held the spear proudly in one hand, the shield in the other. The last look in his eye gave me one message. _Appearances can always be deceiving Aldreana, but you most of all… goodbye stranger…_

It was as if his mind spoke openly to me, sending his words to ring in my head. I wiped the tears from my eyes and held my head up with the same headstrong look. Achilles stood in an arrogant manner, his lips curved in a malevolent smile. The wooden gates suddenly closed the two men from my sight, clamoring shut with a loud bang. Helen stood a few feet behind me; her eyes lay on my back. The soldiers locked the gates, the pounding of the wooden beams slamming against the doors with a mighty force. Helen surrendered to the moment, finally realizing that Hector was on the brink of death. I seized the moment, removing myself from my adamant stage and grabbing my skirts, running up the stone steps to balcony.

"Aldreana!" I stopped in my footsteps and whirled around. Helen's eyes were springing with tears, yet she held them all back biting her cheek. I stepped down and met her, grabbing hold of her trembling shoulders. "This is my entire fault," she finally whispered. My heart told me to scream yes, but my mind compelled it to remain silent. I shook my head, grabbing her hand and leading up the stairs.

"We all could have made better choices, this is just how the Gods decide to punish us," I replied curtly.

As we entered the balcony, the servants of the royal family bowed for Helen with respect. When half of the women looked up, hands went to mouths at the sight of me, once proud and headstrong, now mangled by blood and retribution. I knew they sensed the change in me, and were ready to mark any form of an insult they could. Yet they remained silent when Helen grabbed my hand for comfort, leading me over to stand beside her next to Paris. The young prince gave me a scowl, but Helen's eyes made him resent the glower. He calmly brushed his hand across her waist, leading her to the edge of the balcony where Priam, Andromache and him stood. I remained a few feet behind Helen, feeling the eyes of the other servants on my back.

The sudden clanging of armor made me forget my place. I pushed my way past the servants, standing next Helen. Her glance I barely noticed. Paris glared at me, Helen's hand on his shoulder made him turn back to the fight. I held my breath, only releasing it when Hector was able to keep Achilles at bay. They both moved like Gods. Achilles always used his slashing, his inability to keep his feet still on the ground for one second. Hector was able to dodge every move with an easy duck, and swiftly came back to strike at Achilles. But Achilles kept at it, slamming his sword into Hector's. Both men held a distinguished power about them. I watched Hector move quickly on his toes, his burly body moving gracefully with each swing of his arm. Achilles had his quick, jerky jumps and equally powerful lunges, making Hector fall back.

Hector slashed furiously into the air, backing Achilles further and further into the gates until a thin line slashed the Greek's armor. Hector waited not a second later to round up on the man and stab his side. While Priam jumped with a giddy silent shout of joy, I stiffened, gasping as Achilles had his moment of weakness. Paris glared over his shoulder, his face trembling with anguish at me. I tore away the feeling. Paris's revilement showed clearly in his face. Achilles easily turned his arm around and tried striking Hector, but his shield blocked Achilles' swing. They continued to fight, each not losing another instant of beat.

I caught my breath suddenly and heard Andromache fall to the ground when Hector's foot caught on a stone. He stumbled, gasping for breath. Achilles taunted him, telling him to get up and fight. Andromache banged her head against the stone, Helen immediately coming to her aid. Priam's head was shaking with the unthinkable. Hector got back up, but not quick enough for Achilles' sword. A gash appeared on his leg and again Hector stumbled. Priam was shaking uncontrollable. I looked from Paris, broken, to Andromache, who was caught in her own reverie of Hector's death. My eyes fell to Priam, whose back held the years of peace, ruined by a simple man's lust.

Hector picked up the piece of the broken spear he smashed from Achilles' and ran for his enemy, dipping down to catch his foot. Achilles blindly lifted it up and leaped over the bent Hector, coming at his back. Hector spun around, the spear knocked from his hands. Achilles swiftly picked it up as he moved in and slashed at Hector. I held my breath as Achilles spun around, hoping that Hector would be quick enough. The spear however, bared its sharp teeth at Hector. Achilles spun and chucked the spear. The tip sunk in deeply to Hector's shoulder. He gave a gasp and collapsed to the ground.

"No!" I screamed, leaning in on the balcony. I heard shouts behind me and arms grabbed me, pulling me back onto the stone ground. "Hector!" The Prince was stooped over, gasping for breath as blood gathered at his lips. Andromache sobbed, the only sound besides my choking tears. Achilles stooped in a crouch, pointing his sword at Hector and then stepped in, shoving the blade into Hector's gut. Hector took a last gasp of breath and then died on the ground, falling to his side. Priam's body quaked, Helen was weeping next to me, and Andromache sobbing, a crouched body on the ground. Achilles slid his sword out with a blunt grunt, sheathing it after wiping away the blood. His glistening body haunted my eyes. I blinked through tears at him, watching him grab a yard of rope from the back of his chariot.

Priam mumbled chaotic words and I opened my mouth in a silent growl of horror as Achilles bound Hector's legs to the rope, tying the other end to his chariot. He briskly climbed back onto the chariot, grabbed the reins and turned the horse back for the ships. Priam shook his head, his shoulders matching his breaths of sobs. Achilles looked at each of us as he rode away, matching each of our stares with a cynical glance. When he came to me, he gave a nod, making all heads turn to me. Paris snarled under his breath and stormed from the balcony. Andromache numbly got to her feet with Helen's assistance, looking out over the balcony. Hector's body just crested the horizon when her eyes searched the field and I saw a look of death pass her face. Her face drained of all life, turning a deathly pale as her eyes rolled in the back of her head. Fainting in Helen's arms, I instantly came to her aid, gingerly setting the frail woman down to the floor. Helen gazed with tears pooling down her cheeks.

Guards came and gathered Andromache, carrying her back to the palace. Priam held his head in his hands, dismissing the royal court and the servants. His old age suddenly was heaved upon his shoulders as he gave me the greatest look of denunciation I had ever seen given to me. Expecting me to lower my eyes as a servant, his eyes bulged when I set my head high and let the tears fall openly for my love for Hector. Helen laid a hand on Priam's shoulder. The king didn't stiffen, but let her comfort try its best to consul him. I watched with heavy eyes as Priam finally considered Helen the daughter now that he had lost a son. Yet the scornful glare that he gave her beneath his hands told me that he hated the choice Paris had made. Helen mumbled her leave, setting her eyes on me, her command to follow marked within the blue hue. I turned after her, dreading every moment of my life from here on out.

"Aldreana, stay here for a moment." I bent forward, giving Helen a dubious look as I circled back around. "Helen, leave us." Helen looked from one to the other. All I gave her was a quick indifferent jerk of my head to the doorway, motioning for her to leave. My eyes however betrayed my face with a reassuring look that made Helen quickly dismiss herself from our presence. Priam rubbed his eyes, smoldering his face with his hands. Then he spun around and looked me in the eye. His clouded eyes of the purest blue made me cringe, my frown mixing with my loss.

"Aldreana, you knew of this, did you not?" I meekly nodded my head, realizing that Priam frightened me more than Hector used to. "And yet you did nothing?"

"Don't think that following every order your son gave me, trying to persuade both the enemy and Hector to not do what they would as nothing," I snarled, unable to hold my temper. "Look not to me for an act of betrayal, look only to Helen and your son. I obeyed Hector's orders, stayed in Sparta and came here with Achilles. To blame this all on me is something you cannot do, I will not allow it." My voice died in a whisper. Priam gave me a considering look, a look of condemning. I knew the words were on the tip of his tongue, the declaration of treason. But Priam stood still, standing to his fullest height and coming close to me.

"You loved my son, and knew some secrets not even I possess. Are the stories true, that in return he let you free from my service, from any service of Troy? Is that what drove you to return to the ships?" His acquiring questions made me nod.

"He let me free, so I returned to the heart that returned the love. Hector wanted me to suffer in Troy no longer, and set me free from bondage, to live my own life as I would chose. I chose Patroclus, yet still remain loyal to Troy." I held my head high, brushing away the tears and speaking without a trembling voice. Priam nodded somberly, turning back to the on looking sun.

"You have not changed at all Aldreana. From the moment Hector brought you to court to the second you stand with me. You will never stop fighting for what you want." Priam's eyes were smiling with humor at me, while his face was marked with sorrow. "Nothing but the love of Hector and now this Patroclus has softened your heart." Priam looked to the sword at my side. "That's Greek," he stated bluntly, able to recognize the works of the blacksmith. I nodded.

"Hector stripped Patroclus of his weapons when he killed him." Priam's head snapped up with surprise at my words. I sighed greatly, wishing not to share the story. "Hector believed Patroclus to be Achilles yesterday and killed him." Priam's proclivities took over and even though I named an enemy, his lips still mumbled a pray that Patroclus would make it safely across the River Styx. "He gave the sword to Myles, a servant of the palace, who gave it to me." Priam nodded, a silence taking over. I suddenly grew edgy with the unspoken words, wishing to be away from this place.

"Tell me, do you know anything of Briseis. I still have not lost hope that she is alive." Priam's desire to know the truth made me divert my eyes from him. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and holding back the tears. The opportunity to tell ate away at me. Briseis had the one thing in the world she vowed to give away and loved it more than anything. I cursed myself when I shook my head. Priam gave a ruefully sigh, wishing that he hadn't even brought the matter up. "Aldreana, look at me." His strong yet soft voice made me instantly turn my head up. His eyes locked with mine, I was unable to look away.

"I want you to take me to Achilles' camp tonight. I want the body of my son." My head snapped in surprise at the sudden order. I opened my mouth to protest. "This is my last command to you Aldreana. Once you have completed it, the decision is yours to do what you will. I know where your heart lies and will not strip you of the choosing. Please, you must do this, for me," he ended imploring, begging me. I contemplated the dangers, but finally shook away all the possible deaths. Finally I acceded.

"It is as my lord commands. Tonight when the sun dies, I shall take you to Achilles and we shall return with Hector," I vowed.


	18. Farewell

**Chapter 17- Farewell**

The stars twinkled in the sky as I walked with Priam through the dark, quiet night. The secret passages proved to be of worth once again to Troy. I watched his every move. Once a great king, hidden in the cloak he looked like a broken man. I grimly walked slower to match his gait with mine. The man seemed unable to comprehend the dangers, thinking only of how he wanted his son to have a proper burial. It didn't occur to him that an arrow could fly any second through the air, or that Achilles could have thrown his body to the sea and left back home. I believed that at this moment he didn't even care of life. The moon in the sky guided us in the dark till we came to the campfires. Instantly I remembered that Priam was near me and grabbed his hand, leading him back into the dark and close to the temple, where Achilles' black tents lay not far off. I took a deep breath, wishing not to come to this place.

The small campfires glowed in the night sky, winking at me with a welcoming sign. I saw Eudorus in the distance, standing wistfully at one of the fires, hands on his hips and cup of wine in hand. My heart lifted as I remembered running to Patroclus' open arms. Priam saw my eyes full of happiness, though my face was still stamped with sorrow.

"Need you stay with the Myrmidons, it is up to you. I will not hold you back Aldreana," Priam's voice broke the silence. I faced him with the stunned of looks. But his face was sincere. I looked back to Eudorus, wondering of his words at the hearing of the news. _Should I remain, let Priam take Hector? Maybe even convince Briseis to join me with Achilles?_ The thoughts ran through my head, to finally be rid of Troy. I needed nothing more than his words

Completely sidetracked, the sudden clang of the spears against shields made my head snap in shock, bolting back into the world. The two guards stood at the beginning of Achilles' camp with hard stares at me. They bore nothing more than the spears and shields, their helmets and swords strewn aside. "State your business spies," one said grimly. I flashed the sword out, catching the arm of the man. He doubled over and the other man pulled out his sword, having it poised at my neck. I was bending low to the ground when the man was struck by another sword hilt from behind. As the man collapsed, grabbing his aching head, Eudorus's glare was magnetized by the glow of the fires.

"Aldreana? What in the Gods' names are you doing here?" I gave a weak grin, revealing my face from beneath the hood. Eudorus shared in his own revelation, smiling slightly. He looked from me to Priam's hidden face in puzzlement.

I was overcome with sadness as I remembered the reason for me being here. "I have a visitor for Achilles. If you do not let him see your lord then I will have nothing better to do than strike you down and deliver him myself." Eudorus returned to his seriousness. He tried to decipher the man beneath the cloak. "Do not waste our time Eudorus. It is important we return before anyone knows of our absence." The grunting of the guards standing and giving Eudorus anger glares made his motions even quicker. He sheathed his sword and grabbed the hand of Priam, noticing the old age in the bent over man.

"Come with me." He took us quickly to the tent, without warning allowing Priam to enter, even though he would have done so even without Achilles' request. Soon the Myrmidons gathered around the tent. But after seeing me, many shrugged off the complaints from the guards and stalked back to the campfires. The others easily dispersed themselves when Eudorus and I equally glared at all the rest who remained. Eudorus looked at me up and down, finally shaking his head.

"What?" I demanded. He eyed the sword at my side, noticing whom it used to belong to. "Hector gave it to me."

"I know, I saw him take it when he left," Eudorus commented. I looked up at him. His striking blue eyes made an irresistible control and I fell into his warm embrace. Eudorus held me close, all the while turning to look at Achilles tent for any signs of life. "Who's in there?" he finally asked. I staggered back, recovering from my sudden break down.

"The King of Troy, Priam." Eudorus stopped in his tracks towards the fire. He spun around, rounding up on me and grabbing my arm tightly. A vast grimace covered his face as he berated me.

"Aldreana, what were you thinking? Do you know the dangers of bringing him here? Anyone who finds out who he is will kill him." I opened my mouth to protest, but he waved me silent. He rubbed his chin in thought, and then laughed coldly. "I thought it was so quiet in there, Achilles probably killed him already." He looked up at me with vexed eyes. "Sometimes your renegade attitude is what makes you so dense Aldreana."

I stood in shocked silence. Achilles walked quietly out, his whole body stricken with grief. He looked up to find me and scowled with a derisive look. Shaking his head, he walked behind his tent, where Hector's body was kept. "Eudorus bring a cart for the man," he shouted from behind the tent with a feigned strength, his voice clearly filled with agony. I looked to Eudorus, who loitered for a momentary while, then in a huff went to obey his order. I followed quietly, hoping that Priam had the sense not to come out of the tent unaccompanied. I ran to catch up with Eudorus till I was in step with him and still felt like I was jogging to keep up with the man's stride.

"Eudorus you don't understand, I had to do this. It was an order given by Priam and I promised him I would do it. I had to obey." Eudorus again gave a smile, biting hard on his lip to keep from laughing. He grabbed the handle to a wooden cart leaning against one of the tents and pulled it from out of the sand. I peeked into the tent and saw in the back corner was a poorly striped cot, the sheets rolled into a ball and set aside. "I see you take care of the vacant quickly." Eudorus glanced inside the tent and with a grave demeanor nodded to my statement. The lingering feel of Patroclus was in the body armor, burned from the fiery tower. I pictured the armor on his clad body, shinning with glory in the sun. A cough that covered a sob escaped my lips. Eudorus took a fervent glance at me and then continued back to Achilles.

"Aldreana, I didn't mean to yell before. I just don't want to see you in danger." Out of the corner of his eye he looked at me and gave a quaint smirk. "I barely know anything about you and yet I care for you so much." There was an uncertain look in his eye. I sensed his growing feelings for me, and wished that I could only share in some of those feelings. But I couldn't.

"People sometimes feel absurd things that they can't explain, but normally it's because they don't have to explain it," I suggested. Eudorus thought on the statement and then nodded, unloading the cart and unrolling the blankets tied in the back.

Priam stepped out of the tent, Achilles close behind hefting Hector in his arms. He carefully and slowly placed the body onto the cart and with Eudorus's help fastened and tied him securely. Achilles was silent, his face expressionless, yet I saw the tears in his eyes. Sending his knuckles into his eyes, he turned back to Priam.

"We allow twelve days of funeral services," he avowed. Priam nodded and I watched as Achilles held his hand out. Priam stared at with a hazy and weary glance. Then his hand flashed out and grasped Achilles firmly. The pact made between the two lifted my heart. As I watched, I only hoped that the war could possibly end like this.

Achilles drew quiet again, taking a deep breath. Finally he blurted something that was uncharacteristic to him. "Your son was the best I fought." Both Eudorus and I looked at each other, Eudorus showing amazement to his lord's statement. Priam didn't know how to reply and quickly looked at me for the next action. A running gait behind made us all turn around. Briseis, dressed in a plain long tunic, stopped with a puzzled look.

"Briseis?" Priam asked. She instantly ran into his arms. "I thought you were dead." Achilles blinked and looked away, the zeal for the girl lost in his effort to pry her away from Priam, to claim her as his own. Briseis looked at Achilles for explanation. He motioned for the cart. She dutifully climbed on, grabbing his hand and not letting go. Achilles pulled something from beneath his cloak and handed it to her. I caught the glitter of a shell necklace, Patroclus' necklace. Priam climbed on with her and looked back at me. I slowly walked over to the horse that Eudorus had attached to the cart, grabbing the reins. Briseis managed to choke a depressed farewell.

"Don't worry, you're safe in Troy. I promise you we'll meet again." Achilles lovingly kissed her hand. I grabbed the reins of the horse and yanked hard on them, shoving my face into his flanks to keep from crying. Eudorus rushed to my side as we began to leave the camp.

"Aldreana, come with us, there's nothing for you here." I stopped, glancing to Eudorus. Achilles out of the corner of my eye shrugged carelessly, not caring anymore. I looked over my shoulder to Priam. He gave a depressing smile, his confirmation of my vowed task complete. Briseis gave me a warm face, her eyes telling me to remain here, but her face mixed with indecision. I noticed her varied feelings, her begging face. She needed me, she wanted me to stay with her for any help she would need. Eudorus realized my uncertainty.

"Aldreana, the choose is yours. I just…" he trailed off, his voice growing quiet and slightly embarrassed. I gave him a quick embrace, shaking my head. Tears blurred his face, but his eyes still were stuck in my head, clear and patient.

"Eudorus, I have a duty I promised I would keep. I'm sorry, but others need me here." He nodded solemnly, though I felt his heart break. Achilles still stood by Briseis' side, holding her hand and embracing her with all his love. The feeling placed in his face was one I had never seen before. It changed the man completely.

"Perhaps, Aldreana, in another life we will all meet again," his powerful, once arrogant voice cut through the unsettling air. Priam gave me a look of caution, his eyes pleading to be going. I nodded my head in agreement and gave Eudorus once last weak embrace.

"I pray that we will meet again my lord," I replied softly. Priam's eyes lowered in a disappointed grimace.


	19. An Undying Love

**Chapter 18- An Undying Love**

The sun hovered brightly in the sky, bearing its heavenly glow onto my face through the balcony of my quarters. I slowly opened my eyes, the haunting memories of the day before suddenly flashing into my head. I jumped with a start, quivering as I pictured the crimson flowing from his lush body. A teary voice could be heard from behind my door, rustling with another strong gait.

"My lady, perhaps you need more rest?" the tender voice acquired. I blinked, realizing that Iason stood before my doorway. Another figure shuffled its weight from one foot to the next, the wooden planks creaking with the shifted weight. "I will not leave you alone Briseis," Iason insisted. I knew that quarreling voice as the one who had fallen in love with the priestess. He had always loved Briseis, but accepted her view of the Gods and her choice of the Virgin Rose, though his heart still withered and twisted at the loss.

I quickly got out of bed, grabbing the light blue colored robe and throwing it over my shoulders, trying to make myself look awake. I stepped in front of my mirror and was gingerly brushing my hair when Briseis entered. She gave me a sad smile, coming to stand next to me. In the doorway, Iason gave me a weary glance, looking down at Briseis and back at me with caring eyes. Then he briskly shut the door silently behind him. Briseis took one look at me and frowned.

"You have just woken?" she asked. I nodded, offering my chair in front of the mirror, of which the young woman seemed glad to accept. I grabbed a simple perfume given to me as a gift by Hector, splashing just a little into the maiden's soft and wavy brown hair. I diverted my eyes to the floor, repeating the tradition of the common slave that I was. I looked up to the mirror and into her face. Her big almond eyes were full of tears and she suddenly whirled around, forcing her hands into my clenched fists. I allowed her to rest her head on my chest, where she began sobbing with heavy sighs and tears that flowed freely.

"Why? Why him? I am a priestess, a princess of Troy. He is an arrogant, devious and contempt man who loves nothing but war. And yet I saw him weaken when he spoke to me. When he held me he crumbled and I held him up. When he breathed a kiss to me he shattered and the weight of years of sorrow tumbled to me. He is Achilles, the famous Greek whose lust is death. I chose him, I defied everything I learned and chose him. Iason could be blessing me with the love of ages, and yet I chose Achilles. I love him so much," Briseis freed her soul. Unable to come back into the life she so sorely left behind. "And now, I will never see him again."

Tears came to my own eyes but with a single swipe of my knuckles I sent them back into the dark abyss of my heart. I had to be strong, peremptory. I had to hold up Briseis, while my own heart wilted like a dying lily in the waters of Egypt. I had to give all I had to make sure she was all right. It was a pestilence. This war was a plague. And here I stood, in the middle of it, with no one to consol me. My only love that sprung from my own untruthful hate was gone with the setting sun. And my lord had died with the east, sentenced to an eternity with Hades. Briseis rose back to her straight-backed self, taking on the posture of true royalty. Wiping her tears that ran down her cheeks, she looked at me with her wide eyes.

"And you, Aldreana, were granted the freedom to leave this place, to leave Troy? A dream you thought would never be within the reaches of your fingertips. Why do you remain? You could be halfway to Greece by now and yet you remain?"

I stood up hotly, shoving the brush back on the dresser and stalking to the wardrobe. I picked through the small attire of clothing, finally coming to a plain light blue gown that was the softest of wool and the pale green chiton that it seemed I had stolen years before. Setting them both on the bed, I waited for Briseis to occupy herself on my balcony before stripping down to my feet and getting dressed. Briseis idly looked at Patroclus's sword, which leaned on the edge of the wall. It blazed with magnificent glory with the sun's rays beaming on it. Briseis gave a dubious look to the sword and then out into the city, her eyes falling to the disarranged temple ransacked by Achilles' men.

I announced that I as dressed by closing the door shut with an angry slam. Briseis blinked and turned around. Her eyes were round and she looked at me with imploring eyes. My own bright green ones dulled by the every presence of death, which stank of evil, countered hers and made her turn away. Her hand fluttered up to her neck, to where I found the shimmering and polished shells. She followed my eyes and then laconically swallowed her tears. Untying the necklace, she grabbed my hand and folded my fingers around the smooth shells of the necklace.

"It was Patroclus', so it should be yours," she said meekly. I stared down at the necklace, finally shaking my head and handing it back to her. I motioned to the sword.

"I have all I need of him," I answered. "Besides, it was a gift from Achilles, not Patroclus." Briseis smiled briefly before letting grief settling over her broken heart once more. She sat down on the stool before my mirror, picking at the idle objects I had placed on the dresser.

"I just can't believe they are gone. The two most important men of my life, and both are now torn from my heart as if it were nothing more than a feast for the Gods to ravage on. It is as if my prayers do not matter to them anymore. I thought that they were angry with me, but Achilles taught me differently, saying that it didn't matter where you were, what you did, because the Gods…" she shook her head, wishing to be rid of such memories. She looked around, noticing my empty scabbard. "You're missing your dagger." She tried to assuage the moment by changing the subject. I let her.

"I know. I believe, with the most heavy of hearts-"

"What do you need?" Iason's voice was loud, clearly raised in volume so we could hear. There was the clicking of Iason's armor against the metal bolts in the door, a hint of the other soldier facing him.

"King Priam requests that the wench comes to his presence at once!" Briseis and I both froze and when I looked out of the corner of my eye I saw that her eyes were blazing with fury. She quickly got to her feet, sauntering towards the door. I grabbed her arm, putting a finger to her lips when she wanted to protest. I stepped in front of her and headed for the door.

"Did you hear what he called you?" Briseis whispered after me. I turned and gave her a wicked smile and at the last second went back for Patroclus' sword, which seemed to never leave my side now. _A sudden flash of flame shot into my eyes, along with the scream of pain as he struggled to free himself from the bonds that held his arms behind his back._ I stumbled, my mind blackening with the nightmare. Briseis caught me, sweeping me back to my feet. I shook her off and walked to the door.

"Stay here, Iason will probably remain with you," I commanded of Briseis. The likelihood of her listening was slime, but I felt that my strength was ebbing away with this sudden spasm of visions. I had to remain strong. Briseis nodded and let go of my hand. I walked to the door and firmly grabbed hold of the handle, opening the door briskly. The man was sharp jawed, with dark eyes and scars running down both of his cheeks. I reflected his hidden grin with my own laughing eyes. Iason looked at me, moving his hand away from his sword. The other soldier nodded his leave to Iason, who glared at him profoundly. Then the man snatched my hand and led me down the hall. I scrapped my nail against his skin with my free hand, cutting deeply into his flesh. He grimaced slightly and waited till Iason was out of earshot to slam me again the wall and slap me hard against the face. I winced, blinking stars when I looked into his greedy face.

"Well, I haven't had a beaten in sometime Sinis, and now I think I know why I didn't miss it. Though this slapping business is getting a little old, don't you think?" The man smiled with a brutish grin and slapped me again. Then he crept close to my face, leaning into my chest. He breathed slowly into me, while I gagged above him. Then he lifted his face to my ear, his lips grazing my skin. I flinched, grossed by his sensual ways.

"Nothing is too old for you Aldreana…" he whispered into my ear. I shoved my hand into the back of his head, grabbing his hair and moving out of the way just in time, slamming his face against the stone. He hollered and let me go, grabbing his smashed face. I heard him snap something back into place as I ran down the hall back toward Iason. However, when I turned the corner, he was gone. My hope vanished and I began to pull my sword by its scabbard when a sharp point came behind him, scratching against the healing sore from days before.

Sinis slammed me back against the wall and looked down each end of the hall before lowering his hand against my body. I felt his fingers slowly lift my dress and then his cold hand was on my bear legs, moving slowly upward. I squirmed under him, but that only caused him to crush his fingers further into my skin. His hand in between my legs, I felt his fingers tease the skin beneath. A groan passed my lips and he gave a broad smile.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked plainly, as if we were sharing a passionate love from years before. I snarled a growl, shoving his hand away. He placed the warm fingers on my arm, slowly winding his way to my breast. "Just give in," he whispered. I refused. I laughed and than spit in his face. Sinis backed away, at the last second bashing his pelvis into my hips. I cried as my back hit the hard stone, while he wiped his face and then positioned himself against me. I felt him becoming more lustful underneath the leather armor, and he expressed it fully by pressing his body along mine, giving a grunt as he grinded his body against mine. I slapped his face in return, to which he pulled a dagger and placed it on my throat.

"Don't toy with me Aldreana," he threatened. "You're just as sly as your father." I smiled a devious smile. I decided to play by his rules and ran my fingers down his back. He gave a long moan and allowed me to take hold of the dagger with my other hand. He replaced his hand to my breast, roughly stroking it back and forth with his grimy fingers.

"Oh I know Sinis, it runs in the family I guess," I replied with a sly voice. Sinis lifted his face, unable to feel the cold metal against his back with all the other feelings aroused in him. I placed the dagger to the back of his neck, but he didn't move a muscle. A shifting figure came out of the corner of my eye and two soldiers, accompanied by Iason, came softly up behind him, their leather sandals barely treading the smooth floor. I looked away, keeping my mind on distracting Sinis long enough to get the truth. Sinis gave his life away himself.

"I always thought that Hector was a horrible leader. But thanks to your little escape, I don't have to be a part of his pitiful army anymore." Iason gave me a serious look, his eyes bulging. I nodded my head. "When your father first wanted you to kill Priam and his sons, I thought he was joking, a stupid girl like you couldn't commit murder. But with that dagger on my back, I see that you can." He shoved his body closer into me, lifting up his armor. I shriveled with disgust, hoping beyond hope that Iason would make his move. Iason pulled forth his blade. Sinis's voice grew louder when he spoke. "But killing the king and his sons was the best idea your father created," he stated and threw back his head with a laugh.

Then a gurgled yelp escaped his lips. I let go of the dagger and ran into the closest soldier, who grabbed me roughly and set me to the ground. Iason wore a face of anguish, yet held no regret to his action. He stiffly yanked his sword out, though not without a crack of bones. Looking down at me, he gave me an absurd look, making me cringe at him. So many secrets were pulled out right then. Iason, though, remained totally expressionless, both towards the man lying dead and his feelings towards me. He remained indifferent as he offered his hand, to which I accepted.

"Are you alright?" he asked in a soft whisper. I brushed the tears that I was suddenly ashamed of, nodded somberly. Iason nodded and rose to his feet, wiping his sword on the end of his cloak. A sudden scamper of footsteps made us all whirl around. Priam and Paris joined Briseis, all stopping in an abrupt halt.

"What is going on?" Priam asked with a commanding, yet somnolent voice. Paris, however, seemed to want to boast his new found title and came, yanking my arm and thrusting it behind my back.

"This is your doing, isn't it Aldreana, what man did you murder this time?" I bared his teeth at him. Briseis tried in quiet whispers to calm her cousin down, but Paris' eyes were stuck on me. "Don't try to hid the past of the famous spy, it started with this act of treason. Where is your father Aldreana?"

"Dead and six feet in the ground, haunted by my family in Hades where he lays with the undead, never to pass the River Styx in a fiery hell!" I shouted back. Paris, to my amazement, laughed out loud with deprecating mocking tone.

"And now that Greek you love lays with him in that hell!" Paris countered back with. My temper flared and with it my willpower to kill. I pulled my sword out as Priam scolded Paris.

"Paris, you know nothing-"

"May your soul be dammed for all time Paris, for this is entirely your fault and now your brother stands with Patroclus and my father!" I pointed the sword into the air, the sunlight from the window carrying a deep shine within the blade, all the way to the tip as it rang loudly in the air. The two soldiers pulled out their own weapons, while Iason tried to stop them, but to no avail. Paris nocked an arrow to his bow that was strapped to his back. Priam stepped in front of him.

"Paris, don't!" Priam warned, giving me his own heavy stare. I slowly lowered my weapon, feeling Iason's muscular hand leading the way. Paris pushed past his father, making his way towards me. Iason stepped in front to guard me.

"Father she is-"

"Do not judge her by her actions of the past Paris!" The loud thundering voice that exploded from Priam's voice sent us all into silence. "Without her aid, we would not be able to bury Hector tonight and you would never have brought Helen aboard that ship." Paris stopped in his tracks, spinning around with a look of loss in his eyes. But Priam held the truth, something even Paris couldn't bear. Paris looked back at me and with one long headstrong glare I finally bowed my head. I watched his tense and poised body soften and then with a lingering feeling he pointed a finger at me.

"You're the betrayer," he scorned. I felt my body crumble and I wobbled. Iason caught me and set me upright, though my knees still fell violently. Briseis skipped over to me, putting her arms around me and holding me up. The glare she gave Paris sent the young prince away, his blue cloak flashing behind him and licking the corner of the wall as he sharply turned down the hall. Priam, with a single wave of his hand, he sent the two guards away. Iason let go of my arm, and began walking away.

"Soldier, remain." Iason stepped back next to me, keeping his head high, with his hands folded in front of him. Briseis looked blankly at Priam, a look of dread covering her face. Priam saw the look and calmly broke her hands from me. "Fear nothing, Aldreana has nothing to hide or run from, especially not from me." He then looked up to me and continued. "You have helped me in the greatest way possible." He looked beyond us to the man who lay dead on the floor. "Now tell me, who was this man?" Iason opened his mouth, but I cut him off. Taking a deep breath, I spoke out loud for myself.

"He was a man of my father's, set in the plan of killing you and your sons when the plot aroused close to six years ago." Priam nodded, his wide blue eyes of the clearest crystal piercing into me. "His name was Sinis. Do not be deceived my lord, for I no not how many more of my father's assassins still live. I pray he is the last," I spoke with a disdainful voice, bowing my head in honor for the king.

"As do I." Priam allowed me to look up. Then he stared up at Iason with imploring eyes. "And you, loyal soldier, what is your name?"

"Iason my lord, son of Belen," Iason replied in haste. Priam gave a considering look.

"I remember your father, a good courageous man. You should be very proud of him." Priam held out his hand, to which Iason gratefully shook.

"I am my lord." Iason looked back at the body of Sinis. "That man tried to…tried to rape Aldreana my lord. When Briseis told me of that I only came to protect her. I had no idea of his real identity till he spoke out loud of what he had done." Priam looked down at me. Iason noticed the look of pride in my eyes. "It seems she knew just what to do to make him talk."

"So it would seem. Iason, though of your great deed, which of course you will be rewarded for, I must ask you to please clean this mess up. I don't want a rumor and riot to start." Iason nodded.

"Of course my lord, but I need no reward, I'm honored by just being able to stay in the palace." He looked to Briseis and gave a loving grin. "And protecting the Lady Briseis is what I want to do more than anything in the world." The look Briseis gave Iason shocked me, for it was a look of returned affection. I understood that Briseis was still caught in ruined affections of Achilles, but truly she had not changed her mind that quickly. Priam dismissed himself and Briseis with him, a slight blush coming to her cheeks when she gave a meek farewell to Iason. I slowly turned around, looking Iason straight in the face. Iason was trying to hide his face behind brown curls. I gave him a peevish look and he in return started back towards the Sinis.

"You still love her, don't you?" I tried to begin a conversation. Iason stiffened and then gave a weak smile, tough his face was serious as he stood straight back up and locked eyes with me.

"I will always love her Aldreana, even if Achilles has her heart."


	20. Believing

**Chapter 19- Believing**

_I crawled with the fierce will to fight on, to never give in to the taste of death. I rolled over the singeing piles of wood, my flesh burning with a great anguish. I pushed harder, my heart and soul willing my body to keep going. The night grew to dawn when I finally was able to rise to my feet. Sun's glorious splendor filled my eyes, highlighting the red streaks that still rolled down my body. My own blood was like the Aegean Sea, flowing with endlessness till I would be no more. I imagined my lover's lips, smooth against my own, the feel of our arms encircled around each other, and the stroke of the sea that rocked us back and forth. The eyes, filled with every emotion in the world but one that stood out to me the most, the feel of headstrongness, unable to back down. It caused the pain to flee away for an instant, but enough for me to recollect my thoughts._

_The shuffling of feet from behind me, the morning light that blinded all around the camp from me, the whispers of voices, were all beating sounds like thunder in the sky. I felt myself leap in fright and struggle to reach the boat. Black sails peeked at me from over the others as it bobbed back and forth within the waves. The cold breeze cooled my back, but yet my body ached with all the pain of the world. I clutched the dagger with all my might, feeling my way with blood clot eyes, the hardened substance burning at my face, my hands reached out in front of me. I heard his voice, his powerful calls ringing throughout the air as he commanded with ferocity and indifference. His voice was weighed down, laden with a loss only I could commit to. I shrank back into the dunes of the sand, hiding behind the tents that fluttered their light fabrics in the wind. His harsh footsteps echoed in my ears as he stalked away. I made my way closer to the ship, hearing the sails fling themselves with a loud snap into the wind, the oars splash against the water._

_A man with dark hair bound with a cloth around his brow leapt down form the boat back to shore, grabbing the last of his weapons. His face was sad, filled with remorse. He looked out to the dawning sea, his heart swelling in sadness, his lugubrious movements sending him slowly back to the ship. His eyes were the brightest blue, always holding a sense of sharpness to them. I felt my heart give way. My body weakens with just the few steps I had taken. Sneaking back down to my knees, I crawled my way to the ship. A brush of hard, weather-beaten rope nudged my arm, calling for me. I climb over to the other edge, rolling onto the dock with a cough and a wince. The Gods have favored me, and have granted me this life. I shall not let it be stolen so quickly. Blood pools at my neck, I wipe it away and try to stand. The oars suddenly thrust the boat forward, pushing me away from Troy. I feel my heart break in two, and wonder if ever I shall see my love again. Darkness sweeps over my eyes and I hear the shocked silence and the gasps of the men around me. I rock back into darkness as blue eyes, wide in shock, look down at me…_

_

* * *

_Damnation! I spring back into reality, leaving the dream behind. It fades away like the washing of waves that stole away the Myrmidons, as they drift back to Greece. I wipe my brow of sweat that always lingers on my forehead now. They are just dreams. But now the dreams become more alive, truer with each passing night. The wind shifts suddenly, making me look to my balcony. In the new day, there is already the oppressive feeling washing through everyone. Today will be a dark day, one that none of us want to remember. I sit and watch the curtains of my balcony billowing back and forth; feeling their way along my smooth stone washed walls, and curling back towards the sea. My eyes blur, tears rolling down my cheeks. A sob chokes my throat. I swallow it back as I rise from my bed. I usher myself, as if every step I have to push myself, towards the balcony. Fresh air slaps me full in the face. Dawn has arrived and there is barely another soul as awake as I am in the city. But I am awake, and in the distance I see an escape that I could have taken, now ripped clean from me. In the distance, a small dot along the horizon, sails Achilles' ship and the Myrmidons.

I gaze with a weary heart, remembering Achilles' spitefulness, Eudorus' confusion and Patroclus' mercy when they first saw me, aboard their ship swinging around the sword. I smiled inwardly to myself. It all seemed so long ago. It was when I had the dreams of my past, a haunting past. And now I was free, the dreams had vanished. My smile disappeared. _The dreams had gone, only to be replaced with these…visions? _I knew not what else to call them. I was suddenly in the place of a boy I never imagined to love, and who had stolen my heart. Patroclus was alive in my dreams, alive and well as he climbed onto the docks of the ship. _But where was I, like he always promised I would be? Right by his side?_ And Achilles, Achilles was also missing in my dreams. The sun poured vacant warmth onto my skin, as if it too was dispatched of the entire valor it had against the world, hardened by the threat of war.

My eyes moved across the city, to where the great golden walls stood. The wind sprang from the heavens, washing along my body like water. The waves called to me like the whales and creatures of the sea. The Gods stand in their beauty in their cloud of havens, the mighty Olympus. A whisper came to my ears. _Believe…you must Aldreana. In me, in all that has begun. Believe with your heart, not by the eyes you see..._

My breath caught in my throat in the small gasp. I looked to the clouding sky with wide eyes, the heavens baiting me to come with them as they rolled with their extravagant wonder across the blue sky. The Gods gestured to me, and in their presence I saw him. Patroclus. He motioned to me, but I cannot follow. He calls for me, my name ringing in my ears, but I do not listen. Finally, with sad eyes, he understands. His immortal soul turns its back to me, abiding to my answer. Life still springs in me, even with the ongoing tears that flow from my eyes. Even with my heart split in two, with Odysseus now on one end, and Priam on the other. And Achilles stands in the middle, with all the spirits of those dead and free. I lay trapped, in this living world, the River Styx far from my grasp. I will myself to believe it so, and as a new day begins, I feel stranded from all around me.

Today begins the twelve days in honor of Hector, and tonight I shall watch his body burn like the others, the two coins for the ferry man who takes him across the river, to the underworld. Legends always say it is a dark and gloomy place, but as the voices of those dead ring in my ears, with all the whispers of their chiding accusations in my head, I feel that the underworld can be taken in any which way we see it as. A heaven, or a hell. A peace or a prison. Their singing rings in my ears. They are at peace. A small rap at the door suddenly awakens me from my reverie. I scramble back to my bed, grabbing the thin robe of resinous blue, and throw it around my shoulders.

"Aldreana, may I have a word with you?" I stiffen. It is the soft, feathery voice of Andromache. Sobs sting her throat and I feel my own eyes start to swell in days of crying in despair. "Aldreana…" she hesitates and starts to leave. I leap for the door, swinging it open with a gentle grace after I gathered myself at the last minute. Her dark eyes are pools of death, of brokenness. She cradles the babe within her arms, hugging him tightly. I could have sworn she would have smothered their son if she had held him any tighter.

_Their son…I had wished once for it to be mine…_I throw the thoughts away and with a silent nod and wave of my head allow the lady to enter. She looks around my room. Gazing at the small things I have that create such a gentleness and simplicity to the quarters. Andromache moved into the room with a stiff walk, yet still managed to keep the grace of a Princess. She was already dressed in the mourning black gowns, her curled dark locks caught and bound in golden threads. Her makeup is dark, hiding the redness of her eyes from a night of sleepless crying. I quickly look into the mirror at my own image.

A mature woman looks intently back at me through the mirror. My eyes are not sad filled, even with the tears, but hardened. There is the ice that Hector had to melt after my father's demise. I'm no longer the chattel I thought I was, but a strong woman who could make her own choices. Surprisingly, I found my hair in perfect curls from a day without wash, and the makeup wiped away from the rustle of my sleep throughout the night. I think of the dreams again, Patroclus…

"You knew my husband well?" Andromache asked, though with a hint of assumption she already knew the answer to. I face her again and motion for her to sit down on the silk sheets of my bed, which she gladly accepts. I take the babe from her tired arms, rocking him back and forth as I sit down next to her.

"I did," I answer curtly, knowing it was wrong to speak so insolently to a Princess, but felt no other way to respond. I looked up at her and locked her dark eyes with my bright ones, wondering what the conversation was going to lead to. Andromache dropped her head, refusing to meet my eye.

"There was a time, when you loved him too?" she asks with the earnest of hearts. I nod again, feeling two ways where the next question she could ask could lead. "And did he, love you as well?" Andromache looks at me with hard eyes. I swallow my pride, wishing to answer that yes, at one time I felt we both fell for each other. And then he met Andromache. I felt five years pass so quickly. My heart had flown from one man to the other and in just a few days time, I already knew the man I would love for eternity.

"He loved me as a loyal servant to Troy and a friend he could trust, nothing more than that." Andromache nodded, but still waited for my feelings. "I will always love Hector, but as a prince I will always follow with the greatest of loyalty." The baby gurgles with in my arms, catching a lock of my hair and wrapping his pudgy fingers around it. I gazed down at his bright blue eyes. I wished for me to one-day hold Patroclus' child, for his eyes to gaze at me through my son.

"How can your loyalties lie with Troy when you returned to this war with the Greeks. Hector told me your story, of how he left you to watch over Helen. But then he told me the boy-"

"He was no boy, but a soldier Hector cut down without any thought!" I stood to my feet, clutching the babe close to my breast. "All because of a hate for Achilles." Andromache stands up, her face expressionless except for the hate she suddenly passes my way as I degrade her love. I let it stand. Andromache grabs the babe from my arms and begins to leave the room. "I loved that boy that Hector killed, and not because of the side he was on." Andromache's hand stops, hovering over the handle. She turns back to me. "I love him because of the man he was. I know I'm Greek. But I have lived my life here in Troy, and that is where my loyalty lies, with Hector. He was everything, he was Troy. Without him, this city is nothing." Andromache nods in agreement.

"Was he as old as you?" she asks. I nod. She holds her head high, looking about the room. A small smile tugs at her lips. "So simple this is, this life you live Aldreana. But, war seems to seek you out and transform you. You have changed greatly since I have last seen you. Perhaps this boy, too young for war as you are, as changed you for the better." I know not how to respond to such praise coming from Andromache herself. Tears pool in my eyes.

"Thank you," I whisper. She nods, looking down at the babe resting in her arms. "I miss them both greatly my lady."

"Lead on those who follow you Aldreana, and you can do tremendous things in your life." These were like last words from Andromache. As she left the room, I suddenly felt like I would never speak with her again, never come to her counsel just to see Hector's face. Never hold the babe again and feel his short fingers grasp and pull tightly at my hair. I felt lost to all in Troy. I had disconnected from them completely. The cool breeze lulled me back to the balcony. I watched as the market square prepared the burial for Hector, the people holding their heads with the last strength they could muster, knowing that was what their prince would have wanted…

* * *

…Darkness came faster than I imagined, the days passed so quickly now, yet I always felt I was doing nothing and ceased to be lively, taken by my own grief and boredom. I stare from within the shadows, Myles at my right and Iason at my left, both in armor and welding spears. Myles' gaze drifts to me every moment or two, but my gaze is locked on the burial scene. Priam and Paris both climb the wooden ladder; to where Hector is laid, dressed and clean with his entire splendor shinning in his lifeless face. Across from us sits the royal party. In thrones are Andromache in the middle, Helen at her right and Briseis at her left. All are dressed in black with golden crowns of leaves around their weaved and curled hair. Helen cradles the babe, all three weep openly.

I feel Myles hand come from beneath the shield he carries, his grasps my hand tightly as Priam kisses his son's forehead once more, and Paris lays the torch onto his brother's body. All heads are bowed in perpetuated silence, Hector's words ringing throughout all our ears. Myles gives me a startled look when I look straight up to the growing flames, unable to bow my head. He nudges my arm, but my headstrong gaze remains on Hector's burning body. I will not fail you again my lord…

I suddenly felt the need to end this, to end the call that had awoken in my heart. I let go of Myles' hand and break through the line of soldiers, passing through the throng of people. Iason turns his head and looks at a bewildered Myles. He nods his head to me and Myles silently obeys, following after me. I feel him along my back, but can't hear him and when I turn only darkness meets me. I return back to the empty city, leaving behind the burdensome scene. I sense Myles at my feet, but continue. I hear him throw the shield aside and the spear with a clunk and at that second sprint down the street, hoping to lose him.

"Aldreana!" he screams after me and instantly starts running for me. I feel my heart push me harder and begin running down idle streets, taking all the secret ways to the wall that I knew of. Myles continues to call my name, following me at great haste. "Aldreana!" I feel his voice growing more distant and I become less worried. I slow my pace down, looking behind me but he is nowhere to be seen. Good, I didn't want him to see me go back to Odysseus like a coward. A sound of metal scrapping against leather pulls me around and with it Patroclus' sword flashes in the moonlight. I meet swords with two Trojan guards. They both look at me with surprise and I push them back with all my strength.

"What are you doing out here girl?" one acquires. I lift an eyebrow in decisive and wry expression.

"Saving your lives," I answer sardonically, though I know it to be a lie. They both lower their swords and look at me in confusion. I take the moment and scramble away. They call after but I duck into the corner of the street I need to go into and press my body against the stone. My weight instantly makes the stone give way and I slide into the shadows. The men run past me and I smile to myself. This is for you my lord, I whisper in silent prayer to Hector. I make my way down the long dark tunnel in the wall to where I can sneak outside to the Greek camp like I had so many days before. I feel my heart sing with the thought of my feet brushing along the sand again, and yet it drops forever down to my feet with the thought that my loyalty wavers again, switching from one side to the next. I reach for the loose stone and wish for cold air when a hand snatches my shoulder and turns me sharply around.

Myles stares at me with infuriated eyes, blazing with a greater anger than I have ever seen come from him. "You lied, you betrayer," he hisses in a low growl. I try to yank my arm free, but his grip his forceful and hard, bringing me close to his berating eyes. I try to get free again, but it was a vain attempt.

"Myles, let me go," I shout in protest. His fingers twist my skin. "Myles," I start desperately to calm him down.

"You leave and you turn your back on your own people," he retorts with angrily. I stare and him and almost wish to laugh, but know that will not help the situation.

"Myles if I go now I go to my own people!" I finally announce to him. "I'm Greek!" Myles stutters a word or two, looking at me with wide eyes. In the shock he lets me go and I push myself away from him. He looks at me with lost eyes, as if I abandoned him suddenly. I give him unperturbed look. My convictions have suddenly turned him in all directions and he knew not where to turn. I hold out a hand to comfort but he slaps it aside. "Myles," I say softly. "I go to help Troy."

Myles shakes his head only to have me repeat myself. Finally, he looks up at me. I feel his head reach out to brush aside a lock of hair that escaped the long braid. I shudder when I imagine Patroclus doing the same. Myles looks at me, locking my eyes and gives me a content look. He shrugs his shoulders with a deep sigh. "You always amazed me Aldreana," he says. I nod, hearing this more than once from him. "But perhaps it is like you say, appearances can be deceiving." I smile, remembering all the people I have told that to, and how they believe me. I kiss him lightly on the cheek.

"I'm grateful to have a friend like you Myles," I respond. Myles waves the sentimental moment away.

"Be back before dawn, otherwise I will set guards to this doorway and bar this from you. You shouldn't keep using this as an escape Aldreana," he proposes. I cock an eyebrow, but his face is serious and so my flippant look drifts away. I nod and push away the stone, not giving Myles a last look as I walk into the cool night.

* * *

The Greek camp is quiet as soldiers drift away to sleep, escaping to their own dreams. This makes me remember mine and I tug the dark cloak always around my back closer to my face, hiding my features. I briskly walk to the large tent. Candlelight flickers as the shadowed men walk back in forth in council. I recognize the sturdy form of Odysseus, and the stout form of Agamemnon as he paces back and forth in anger. Sneaking past the two guards that stand in the doorway, I brush my way along the side of the tent, making sure my shadow can't be seen. A crack of the tent where the fabrics of two rugs come together allowed me to easily see all the men in the tent and I draw closer.

"Achilles makes a secret pact and I have to honor it! What treason is this?" Agamemnon springs from his throne in anger. His snarl makes me cringe. "After all of this we have to have twelve days of peace, peace, PEACE!" Odysseus hides his grudge against the king by rubbing his chin, hiding his grimace. His eyes scatter themselves along the tent floor and in the corner he spots me. His eyes grow wide but he keeps quiet, making me shrink back into the shadows. "Their army is leaderless, now should be the time to attack," the king whines in protest.

"Even without Hector, we cannot breach their walls," Agamemnon's advisor speaks out. The other men nod in agreement. Agamemnon lays dark, cold eyes on the man. He waves his hands in the air in exasperation.

"I will tear their wall down brick by brick," he cries, his face looking up to the sky. "Hear me, Zeus, I will burn their walls to the ground!" All the men are quiet and my own breath is sucked out of my lungs. I lay eyes of hatred on him and feel my fingers tightened around the sword hilt at my side. All the men look at each other for the other to speak, but they all remain silent and soon Agamemnon waves their dismissal. Odysseus gives me one long look and exits last. I watch the men walk away, Odysseus eyeing the guards until they turn at Agamemnon's shouted command.

He quickly retreats over to me. I stand and open my mouth to speak, but he tosses me aside, deeper into the darkness. I sink into the sand; its waves of dune creeping down my gown from the sheer force of his throw. I spin around with an anger curse about to escape my lips, but he clamps his hand over my mouth, shushing his silence. I give him a wide-eyed look but he keeps his finger at his lips to signal my silence. A whisper and suddenly we both hear Agamemnon's voice to his guards.

"Has there been any sign of the Trojan spy?" Odysseus and I remain rigid in out spot, he kneeling over me and I sprawled on the ground.

"No my lord, not since the death of the cousin," one answers. Agamemnon slams his fist on his throne.

"Find her damn you!" he swears loudly. "I have much to discuss with her." We both hear the shuffle of feet but the guards to not exit. "Why do you stay? GO! Or I'll have the Trojans come and kill you!" The men run from the tent as Agamemnon laughs devilishly, grunting as he sits back down. I struggle for breath but Odysseus finally stands up, taking me with him and we creep along together in the shadows. Coming to the edge of the camp, he throws me aside and lets me catch my breath.

"Aldreana, what are you doing here?" he asks with an angry voice. "If anyone saw you, you could have been killed." I wipe my hands of the sweat that had gathered while we had hid from Agamemnon onto my dress. I come close to him.

"That's just it, no one saw me and so I'm fine," I replied with a dry attitude. Odysseus gives me a rational look and then chuckles softly. Without thinking he grabs me into a big hug till the air is sucked out of my lungs once more.

"Oh, Aldreana, you were always like that," he acknowledged softly. I give a small smile, suddenly remembering the main reason I came, not just to spare myself of the sadness, but also to ask him of something greater.

"Odysseus," at the sound of my seriousness, the smile was wiped clean from his face. I grabbed him by the shoulders, making him look me in the eye. "You need to end this. Take this twelve days and convince Agamemnon to leave." Odysseus' mouth hangs open and he slowly unlocks my hands from him and backs away, shaking his head.

"I can't, it's not possible." I open my mouth in protest, but he counters it back. "No, Agamemnon is to proud of a man to let this go and I am proud to let my kingdom fall into his hands."

"But you could save-"

"I don't want to save Troy Aldreana, I want to defeat it. And I will do it any way I can, no matter the cost."

I run up to him, catching the edge of his cape as I fall to his knees in tears. "Even kill the innocent! Kill thousands for the sake of an arrogant king. You want to kill the children, watch them cry at your feet and the wives wail as you stab them unconditionally." My eyes are wide with tears and Odysseus steps closer to me and kneels down to silence my shouts. His wary eyes make me quiet to a whisper with my next words. "You would kill men like Patroclus, just to have what you want?" Odysseus freezes and for a second I imagined him nodding his head. Then he encircles his arms around me as I sob, shushing me.

"Aldreana, it is not my choice. My life hangs in Agamemnon's hands. And if I fall, my kingdom falls, everyone I love dear." He pulls my face up and wipes away tears. "Please try to understand this effects everyone." I nod, though my mind is back to Patroclus and Hector. I think of his smile, how he pulled me back and thrust his lips against mine, how the waves crashed at our sides.

"I miss him so much Odysseus. I don't want to see anymore of this," I tremble in his arms. Odysseus remains silent, contemplating in his head and finally speaks the words aloud.

"There was no body," he suddenly puts out. I stiffen, looking up at him incredulously. He remains still, watching my lips tremble and tears spill forth from my eyes.

"What?"

"There was no body when I looked this morning. I watched most of the night and when I left and returned there was no body. No burning flesh, no decaying cloth or bones. There was no trace that Patroclus' body was even there at the start." I raise to my feet, backing away from him, my hand to my lips. "I told Achilles but he didn't believe me, he said the body would be burned to ash. And that's true, but there would still be bones, and I…" Odysseus fumbles for words. "There were slash marks against the wood Aldreana. Slashes from a dagger. And scattered pieces of wood and ash trailing back to the camp. Achilles says it was the wind. But there is only so much that man believes. Please forgive me. I know that it can't be true. But I'm a fool who believes in hope." He took breath to take it all in. "Get out of Troy Aldreana, before it's too late."

He takes a step to me but I hardly notice. I suddenly envision the dreams, his body struggling within the fire, crawling to the boats. He whispers my name from the clouds. I look up to the heavens and the stars twinkling back at me, but not one can be his soul. There is an empty spot, like my brother said, that would soon be filled with the spirit of a being. But there was no spot filled with Patroclus. My heart filled with remorse for everyone I betrayed, every life I changed. But yet it swelled with a new feeling I thought never to express. I had hope and I began to believe.


	21. A Drawing End

**Chapter 20: A Drawing End**

I had given up crying, my heart lifting at the news that Odysseus provided. The sun was twinkling over the sand dunes in the east, and here I sat, amongst the cold sand. My body ached, tired from the journey that my life had been forced to take in the past weeks. My eyes were rough with the tears that stained my check. Yet beyond all this sorrow, all this despair that was trapping my body in an endless torture, I felt in my heart a deeper courage was setting in. I shall find him…till the end of this earth I shall search…

The sun, the spirit of Apollo blazing forth in tremendous splendor, crept over the sand, shinning into my face. I had not moved since leaving the camp. Like my convictions, my beliefs, I was stranded, stuck in an unending battle between the two lives I now had. My eyes were frozen over on the sand, dawn rising swiftly and quickly. A shape suddenly appeared in the distance, the heat from the sun already causing waves to blur vision. Standing slowly, heart twisting in confusion, I watched as a wooden creature emerge from the sea. A horrible realization crawled its dirty path up my skin. A cold fervor set in. The end of Troy is near…

I scrambled back through the small stone tunnel, pushing it shut behind me. I take a breath, sinking into the cold sand that relaxes my warm, weak body. My throat catches and I lose all the strength that I had a moment ago with Odysseus, the strength that willed myself to come back here as opposed to my greatest wish of leaving with him. I sob with great heaves, thinking of Patroclus, thinking of that giant horse that is now looming towards Troy and me. There were cuts along the wood, cuts from a dagger. My dagger. My decision is set, set in stone and will be known throughout the ages. A smile comes over me and I fervently stand up, wishing to leave as soon as possible. A greater sense of determination overwhelms me, for I suddenly know that I shall leave Troy forever. Troy is not my city anymore, and in reality it never was. I knew with a sense of deepest depuration that the city would fall, and I would never see it again, I would finally be free of it. Then so be it…

Gathering myself up, I turned and began the trek back to the end of the tunnel. A shuffle made me shrink back, clinging to the wall, and grabbing for defense. But from the shadows emerges the foot of Myles, asleep against the wall with his sword in hand. I stop, pausing and watching his breath rise and fall. All that I knew, my whole life…would be gone. I look at Myles. His face is gentle, soft and relaxed. There is a heaviness that clings to it, the makings of war. I reached out my hand, wishing to touch his face, to stroke the face I had loved once. I dropped it. I had too many lovers. All disappointed in some way. There was only one that didn't, one that I wanted to cling to forever for protection. I slinked over to Myles, crawling halfway over him. He shifted, his hands grabbing the sword. Like a cat, I straddled him, hovering over him, thinking of what had happened between us. I feel my eyes softening, looking over his tired face as he sleeps. He had grown so much, not the boy I had once fallen for.

"Myles…" I want to say more but no words form. Swiftly I leap over him and head back towards the city. Abruptly, Myles hands fly towards me, grabbing me and swiftly turning me back around. His eyes are wild with dreams and nightmares. I stay frozen, unable to move. My face expressionless, I wait for him to realize who is holding in his arms. His eyes stay wide, his hands holding me too tightly. I gasp escapes me, and pain erupts through my body. Myles, in a start, lets go of my arms, but stays close. He knows in my eyes what path I have taken, what I shall do and who I shall let go.

"Aldreana…" he whispers. His face melts into sadness, a depression that he will never be able to let go of. His dark eyes search my face, filling into a deeper and deeper pit of despair. He lowers his head, his dark hair masking his distraught face.

"Myles, you need to leave the city as soon as possible," I breathe softly. Myles' head springs back up, his face full of concern. Tears well up in my eyes. My hand drifts up to his face, his stern, mature face. 'Oh Myles, you and I have changed so much." My hand rests on his cheek, feeling the sharp bone underneath. I look into his eyes.

"What do you know?" he demands. I stagger back; he grabs me and holds me to him. "Aldreana, what do you know? Please," he whispers. "Please tell me."

"I'm so tired…" I whisper, my hand drooping down off his face. "Myles…" I look up at him. It would be the last time I would see him. "…I can't…" I feel one more teat slid down my cheek, the last tear I would shed for a long time. I felt my heart give way to Myles, the young man who I had once so earnestly loved. Now, my heart was cold and bleak. Nothing would stir it till I would find him. "Myles…" I inhale deeply, the warm air filling my lungs. The tunnel around me is silent, only the sounds of movement in the city's streets disturb our silence. Myles holds me when I begin to move. "Myles, the King will want to see me."

"What is going on? What waits outside Troy?"

"Myles!" I shout. I grab his face in both hands, my eyes spearing into him. "Leave! I beg Myles. I want to see you alive after this."

"I will not leave my country!" he retorts back just as quickly, grabbing my hands and holding them in front of us tightly. The air seems still, staying motionless as Myles awaits what I shall say next. I feel him move closer.

"Please forgive me Myles," I softly say. He whispers my name as he shifts closer, his lips shivering. I feel his kiss, and respond, but yet I feel nothing. I pull away just as quickly as it begins and without saying another word I disappear through the tunnels doorway.

The city is quiet. People stir but do not wish to move. Those that walk the cold stone streets are solemn. I wait till no one is looking and sneak out. Guards walk past me, looking at me, their sneers evident. I look ahead as if too tired to care, which bares truth as my body starts to fail. The homes around me, built up by sand and stone. The baskets of clothing, the wagons of food. I look upon the city around me, towards the balconies that are perfectly draped with flowers, garlands of spices and herbs. The city was just as tired as I was, it was finished, and it was weak. I walk along the streets, stones bouncing off my steps; my eyes are not looking anywhere, but rather are in another world. Women begin their day, stepping briskly out of the doorways, dressed in light chitons and carry baskets against their hips. Children, weary with sleep, trudge along the streets beside their mothers, blinking wildly at the brighten sun that is rising higher and higher into the sky. The pale stone shares in indifference with me, neither sparkling with happiness and pride, nor bleak with sorrow for the war that rages around it. The city is just as dead as I am.

I walk to the courtyard of the city, the main street that cuts its way unpleasantly towards the beaming palace. I look at the palace, draped in deep blue and set in gold. It burns in my mind, flames skirting up towards the high ceilings, spinning along the draperies and curtains of the palace entrance. I hear screams from the bustling people around me as they run from the Greeks, falling like dry grass and breaking into a thousands pieces. I stop in the courtyard, in the marketplace that is just blanketing itself with life. I turn to the large wooden doors, the entrance to the city. Days before stood Hector, and now here I would stand. I see it crumble down, sparks rising into the starry night.

"Aldreana," King Priam's voice burst through the dream-like state I had fallen in. I turn, and there stands King Priam, Paris, and trust advisors to the king. I slightly bow my head, staring ahead at the sandy ground with indifference.

"My lord," I utter. Priam begins to trudge forward, his body tired and broken. He walks past me and stops when I do not rise. "Come," he commands. I look up and Paris is next to him once more. Paris' eyes are hard, yet I still see a fear lying in them. He fears what I know, and he knows that I have a secret. His distrust is shown furiously on his face, yet I cannot let him win. The great doors opened, Priam continuing on. Paris still stares at me, and when I walk past him to the follow the king, he reaches for my arm.

"Do not scare me with your words, they mean nothing Prince!" I swore to him under my breath, so that only he could hear. I watch from the corner of my eye as Paris drops his hand. His eyes bear down on me and I continue on.

We walk across the flat ground in front of the city's walls. The ground is hard, dry, soaked with the blood of the slaughtered. Within all of our minds is Hector. I wonder now if his blood is stain I walk upon, forever ground into the earth. The horse looms ahead, filling us all with trepidation. My feet move forward, my mind elsewhere. I scan the horse up and down, from head to foot to the ropes that cling along the sides of it. Nothing seems amiss. But as we rise over the sand dune, we are faced with a strange sight. Men, dead Greeks, are scattered over the land. Their bodies were laid out in boils and sores, or so it showed. To me, it was a trap, the dead bodies of those Greeks fallen in combat, their skin burned to form the resemblance of wounds. Priam suddenly stops, looking at the horse, squinting into the sunlight. Paris stops next to him and I continue to walk ahead, ignoring Priam's call, the guards that line the dune behind us and the destruction that lay all around me. I see Odysseus' face in my mind, urging me forward. The wood creaks in the heat of the day, folding underneath the warmer temperatures. I walk towards it, the king and men behind me remaining silent. As soon as I place my fingers on the chilled wood, I realize its origin. The wood is from the ships, harden from seawater and still saturated. The others begin to inch forward once I have placed a hand on the wood.

I move around it, sneaking underneath the legs of the horse as the men begin to discuss what to do with it. I look up into the bowed and shaped wood. Suddenly, the eyes of Odysseus peer back at me through the wood. I freeze, but then quickly sneak a line of rope into my hands to appear distracted. I walk past the horse, looking to the sea. It invites me, calls to me. The cool dark waters look so welcoming, the sound of the waves crashing against the sand a soothing sound. The screams of Troy rigidly cut through he peace of the sea.

"Burn it!" Paris shouted sternly. Silence followed and I turn to see Priam walking up to me, seeking counsel. What do you think? His eyes say to me. I swallow deeply, looking back up to the horse. Paris bears down his eyes on me, but I remain silent. I clamped my mouth shut, speaking not a word. Priam turns back to Paris and his men.

"Bring it into the city," he says swiftly and begins walking back to the city gates. Paris opens his mouth in protest, but Priam ignores him and continues. A wind sharply came through, catching my hair and spinning it around my face. My eyes are fixed on Paris. His eyes quiver with angry towards me, his fists clenching at his sides. The guards and advisors move away, the guards searching for tools to move the giant horse. I begin to walk back to Troy, but Paris steps in front of me. My hand moves to the sword at my side. Paris flinches with disgust, but his hand mimics my actions. His dark eyes pierce into me.

"Is that his?" he spits at me, clenching his teeth.

"Is she really yours to have?" I say with a sneer. Paris' lips curled at me. I tried to walk past me, but he clings to my gown, reaching his ear to his lips.

"If Troy burns, I will not stop until I kill you at my feet!" he seethed into my ear. I pulled away sharply, stepping back. The wind still flung around me, gathering my hair over my face, obscuring my fury from Paris and the others who had begun to look at our confrontation.

"If Troy burns, the world will remember the Prince who stole the Queen, not the Greek who fell in love with Achilles' cousin," I threw this at him with ice in my voice. It cut Paris to the very core. His feigned courage crumbled back, leaving the cowardly shell of the prince. "History will remember you Paris, not me."

* * *

The city celebrated the wooden horse. The streets fluttered with flowers and garlands of sweet scents. The celebration had begun. Plague had struck the Greeks all that remained was the wooden horse. Victory was in the hands of the Trojans. I stood on a stone balcony, watching as the city flourished once more with life. It was a sweet happiness, but also a happiness that would be short-lived, and the people felt it. The royalty that sat atop their balcony were not as pleased as their kingdom. Priam still stirred with unease, Paris with anger at his own people, Andromache still sat with tears rolling down her face in grief.

I sat on the balcony, my legs curled under my arms. Patroclus' sword lay next to me, shinning in glory. I had everything that I would need, for I would not be returning to the city again. Tonight was the last night that Troy would stand, and I did nothing. I was a shell, prone to feel indifference. The sting of the world, my father, and the bloodshed that loomed ahead of me all whirled around me, yet here I sat, unable to feel anything.

I remembered the balcony as I sat upon it growing up, my father and brother bricking below. I remember reaching for the limp ladder, shimming my way up. I would look upon the city in solace, ignoring the fighting below. It was the same now. I looked at the city for solace, for peace. It gave me known, instead it was a condescending feeling, deriding towards me. The city was alive. The stone danced with the people, the horse a beacon of hope for everyone that gathered around it. I turned my head, facing the sea that rose above Troy's walls. It glimmered as the sun began to set. The orange glow creating millions of shadows along the city. Torches began to be lit as the sky darkened. Guards turned towards the outside walls, standing upright and alert. The party below raged on.

The sky turned to a deep purple as the sun drew deeper, settling itself underneath the earth to rest. But in my mind, in my soul, there would be no resting. The sun grew bright, shinning in my eyes. The city held it's orange glow, reflecting with brilliance. AS I looked out upon the happy people, finally settling down, I realized that for the first time in my life, I found the city beautiful to behold. The green gardens that flowed their way up to the palace, the colorful fabrics that draped themselves over ropes that hung over the streets. The gold shimmering in the dying sun. Troy was beautiful, and I smiled slightly, feeling my head droop down onto my arms, and with a sigh I felt my eyes close and drift to dreams…

* * *

_The heat was warm, unbearable. I felt it all around me but I couldn't move. I willed myself to raise my head, only to feel a heavy smoke push it back down. I fumbled around in the smoke, reaching for his sword. But it wasn't there. An emptiness surrounded me and suddenly I heard the washing of water on rocks, the trickling of fountains. My eyes began to focus and I saw a temple ahead. Pillars aligned the fountain that ran towards me, the cool water splashing back and forth along the edges. The temple led to a statue, though the smoke hindered the face. It was a strong man, seated on a throne of gold and stature. I willed my body to stand, its heavy weight bearing me down to my knees. I couldn't breath, my lungs suffocating with the acrid smoke that poisoned my lungs. The water soon was rushing, but I did not feel the cool liquid on my body._

_Instead the heat intensified, as if it were fire that was rushing towards me in fast currents. I looked up again, and suddenly the smoke cleared. Patroclus stood at the end of the fountain, his body clothed in dark blue, emerged in the fountain. He held out his hand and instantly I felt my body rise, my feet move towards him. I was moving to his will, whispering his name over and over again. His eyes were sad, his face plastered with sorrow. His neck was unholy. A huge scar meandered along his neck. He had grown up, his face was haggard with war, his eyes dark and menacing. He was not the Patroclus that I loved. I stopped at the end of the fountain but with a beckoning finger I was drifting into the cool waters._

_Suddenly the smoke cleared, the heat was gone and the temple was visible. The pillars stood, dark and ominous. I waded through the water, and Patroclus stepped further towards me, his hand still outstretched. We met in the center of the fountain, and wildly he grabbed me, his arms wrapping themselves around me. He held me tightly, kissing me fervently. His kiss was lushes, healing my broken body. But then his form slacked and I broke away from him. Blood curdled on his lips, seeping down his mouth. I brushed it away but it only gathered even more. I looked to his face but his eyes were the color of gold coins, and he grew limp in my arms. Holding him to me we sank into the water, sinking deeper. Around the pillars emerged faces I could distinctly recognize. Achilles, Odysseus, Agamemnon, and Eudorus on one side, Briseis, Priam, Hector and Paris on the other. Hector looked at me with huge, loving eyes, begging me not hold onto Patroclus. Achilles was full of sarcastic laughter, his eyes twinkling at me. Agamemnon, Paris and Priam were full of hatred and scorn, while Briseis and Odysseus held faces full of pity. From behind Patroclus, who sunk deeper and deeper, came steps into the water._

_I held onto my love but couldn't. His body was too heavy and his weight was causing my body to crumble with him. Tears flowed from my eyes as I slowly let him go, his touch still on my lips, my fingertips tingling as they grazed his skin. The man who stepped behind my love cast a shadow upon me. I looked up, praying for Patroclus who now had sunk within the pool of blood that formed around him, my hands desperately groping around the water for him. I gazed up…and met the eyes of my father._

_He grinned at me with pleasure. My body and mind were too weak to fight and I collapsed underneath is powerful stare. Urgently and harshly, he picked up by the arm, dragging me to meet his face. His breath was rancid, seeping over my face. A nausea set into my bones, weakening my whole body._

"_Aldreana…"he whispered with contempt. "You're to be judged now." I tried to pull away in fright, but instead in grabbed my whole body, throwing me towards the statue. I looked up to face the Gods, their faces all staring at me, contemplating me with the greatest anger. Suddenly, an evil chuckle burst from my father's lips. It was the laugh of a madman, the laugh of a murderer. My body flung itself forward into the water, and instantly my lungs closed up as I began to drown beneath the Gods…_

* * *

My body sprung upright. Coughs flowed out of me as I imagined the water clinging to the insides of my lungs. But it was not water that I choked from. Trying with all my strength to breath, I felt the same growing, intense heat, the heavy smoke swirl around me. With dread, I looked up. Screams erupted the sound of crackling wood. Flames shot up in all directions around me. Troy was burning.


End file.
